The  Way  of  the  Wbrld 
and  Other  Ways  <&  *t 


A  Story  of 

Our  Set.  *» 


Katharine  E.Conway 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


- 


, 

re 

X 

C: 


H 


. 


THE  WAY  OF  THE 
WORLD    AND 


OTHER 

A  STORY  OF   OUR  SET 


BY 

KATHERINE  E.  CONWAY 


BOSTON 
THE  PILOT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

MDCCCC 


Copyright,  IQOO. 
By  KATHBKINB  E.  CONWAY. 


All  rights  reserved. 


Books  by  (Catherine  E.  Conway 


The  Way  ol  the  World  and  Other  Ways 

A  Story  of  Our  Set.    Ji.oo. 

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ps 

A?// 


—  Nay,  the  world,  the  world. 
All  ear  and  eye,  with  such  a  stupid  heart 
To  interpret  ear  and  eye,  and  such  a  tongue 
To  blare  its  own  interpretation. 

—  TENNYSON. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I.  ARTIST  AND  WOMAN      .... 

II.  BUT  MOST  A  WOMAN     .... 

III.  THE  SUCCEEDING  OP  SUCCESS 

IV.  OUR  WHIST  CLUB  KEEPS  LENT     .        . 
V.  THE  LADIES  AND  THE  LION  . 

VI.  ANOTHER  DAT        ..... 

VII.  BERTRAND  COLEMAN'S  SISTER 

VIII.  ONE  AUGUST  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS  . 

IX.  THE  PRODIGAL  BROTHER 

X.  A  FRIEND  IN  NEED        .... 

XI.  THE  FATEFUL  PORTRAIT 

XII.  A  MAN  IN  HOPE  AND  A  WOMAN  IN  LOVE 

XIII.  THE  CLOUD  IN  THE  EAST 

XIV.  BERTRAND  COLEMAN'S  MISGIVING  .         . 
XV.  DANGEROUS  DELAYS       .... 

XVI.  THE  TALK  OF  THE  TOWN 

XVII.  BLAMELESS  KING  ARTHUR 

XVIII.  JANE  AND  THE  MAJOR   .... 

XIX.  UNWELCOMED  HOME        .... 

XX.  A  WOMAN  FORSAKEN     .... 

XXI.  IN  THE  HANDS  OF  HER  FRIENDS  . 

XXII.  ESTHER'S  PUZZLE  EXPLAINED 

XXIII.  THE  WEDDING  RECEPTION     .        . 

XXIV.  A  HARVEST  OF  THORNY  ROSES 
XXV.  ESTHER  BREAKS  SILENCE 

XXVI.  THE  TURN  OF  THE  TIDE 

XXVII.  SUNRISE  IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW 


PAGE 
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23 
29 
35 
49 
60 
68 
79 
89 


THE  WHY  OF  THE  WORLD  AND  OTHER  WHYS. 

A  STORY  OF  OUR  SET. 


CHAPTEE   I. 

ARTIST   AND   WOMAN. 

IT  would  be  hard  to  say  who  had  the  most 
responsibility  in  the  matter. 

No  one  had  started  out  with  the  idea  of  doing 
anything  blameworthy,  or  even  unkind;  for  that 
unpleasant  experience  with  Mrs.  Josiah  Mint  had 
made  all  our  ladies  more  careful. 

Then  why  should  one  ?  She  was  such  a  gentle, 
harmless  little  woman;  so  preoccupied  with  her 
own  work  that  she  had  no  time  to  mind  other 
people's  business ;  and  of  too  sensitive  a  conscience 
to  be  a  meddler,  even  if  she  had  had  abundant 
leisure. 

Her  name  did  not  come  up  in  the  earlier  history 
of  our  set ;  for  she  was  not  a  member  of  the  Whist 
Club  —  indeed,  she  loathed  whist  —  and  she  had  no 
social  axes  to  grind  through  her  connection  with 
the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula. 

It  is  evident  that  of  our  discussion  of  Mrs. 
Mint's  affairs,  nothing  reached  her  ears  except 


2  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 

that  lady's  supposed  heavy  losses ;  and  believing 
the  rumor,  she  did  what  made  her  a  friend  for 
life. 

That  was  just  before  Mrs.  Mint  bought  Castle 
Montgomery ;  when  the  mystery  of  her  ways  for  a 
few  months  gave  rise  to  all  those  strange  stories, 
which  deceived  many  of  us. 

But  if  Esther  Ward  had  heard  the  world's  wonder 
of  gossip,  she  would  have  contributed  nothing  to  it. 

"  Though  she's  a  chatty  little  body,  she  never  tells 
you  anything,"  said  Mrs.  Eobert  Ray. 

Some  of  the  less  intellectual  of  the  Daughters  of 
St.  Paula  thought  she  was  unobservant,  and  a  little 
stupid,  on  matters  outside  her  profession. 

But  Mrs.  Peter  Jones  said  that  she  was  merely 
cute. 

And  Mrs.  Tom  Brown,  the  worried  mother  of 
three  unmarried  sons,  said  that  if  there  was  any  one 
thing  which  every  one  of  her  sons  hated  more  than 
another,  it  was  a  diplomatic  woman. 

On  the  subjects  in  question,  however,  Esther  Ward 
was  neither  unobservant  nor  diplomatic.  She  was 
merely  indifferent.  So  many  things  which  preoccu 
pied  the  attention  of  our  friends  already  mentioned, 
seemed  to  her  not  worth  while. 

Of  the  rivalries  between  Mrs.  Jones  and  Mrs. 
Bernard  Willow  for  the  exploiting  of  Lions,  for 
example,  she  would  have  said  to  her  own  soul 
that  they  were  not  worthy  of  reasonable  beings. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  o 

She  wouldn't  have  submitted  to  the  boredom  — 
to  put  it  on  no  higher  ground  —  of  talking  this 
opinion  over  with  anyone  else. 

Whence  you  will  perceive  that  Esther  Ward's 
charity  of  speech  and  silence  were  in  certain 
aspects  rather  negative  qualities.  You  need  not, 
therefore,  give  her  too  much  credit  for  them. 

It  seems,  also,  that  she  had  more  or  less  pride 
of  intellect. 

I  don't  hold  a  brief  for  Esther  —  I  would  not,  even 
if  women  were  more  generally  admitted  to  the  Bar, 
and  successful  in  legal  practice. 

This  for  the  simple  reason  that  she  would  not 
have  accepted  my  services,  even  had  they  been  ten 
dered  gratis. 

She  would  have  retained  a  man. 

Her  best  friend  could  not  deny  that  she  enjoyed 
the  society  of  men.  Indeed,  she  did  not  deny  it  her 
self  ;  only  she  said  "  clever  men." 

Whence,  also,  you  will  perceive  that  she  had  not 
a  proper  appreciation  of  the  judicial  or  mental  or 
social  qualities  of  her  own  sex. 

Therefore,  feeling  that  my  bigoted  championship 
of  her  cause  might  not  have  been  esteemed  at  its 
proper  value,  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  I  think 
her  actions  in  several  cases  were  extremely  impru 
dent  ;  and  that  her  failure  to  foresee  their  certain 
misconstruction  was  due  to  a  bad  case  of  moral 
invincible  ignorance. 


4  THE  WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

I  don't  mean  that  she  did  anything  morally 
wrong  —  oh,  dear  no!  Even  Mrs.  Jones  in  her 
bitterest  moods  would  not  have  suggested  that. 

But  Esther  should  have  known  that  you  cannot 
persistently  keep  your  affairs  to  yourself,  and  even 
decline  the  friendliest  overtures  to  enable  you  to 
make  confidence,  without  giving  some  worthy  people 
reason  to  think  that  you  have  a  motive. 

And  to  have  a  motive  for  every  little  thing  cer 
tainly  shows  a  nature  deficient  in  openness. 

I  think  myself  that  it  would  have  been  better 
that  she  had  not  painted  Bertrand  Coleman's  por 
trait. 

Indeed,  his  own  sister  said  so  long  after,  though 
she  it  was  who  had  most  vehemently  urged  the 
making  of  that  self-same  portrait.  She  forgot  that, 
however,  in  the  day  of  the  inevitable  consequences. 

And  she  was  really  fond  of  Esther,  and  claimed 
to  be  her  best  friend.  But  Mrs.  Willow  and  Mrs. 
Eay  made  the  same  claim  in  her  regard,  and  also 
the  same  criticism. 

Perhaps  you  have  noticed,  my  gentle  reader,  that 
it  is  often  our  best  friends  who  know  just  what  we 
should  have  done,  after  all  is  over,  but  who,  curi 
ously  enough,  applauded  the  condemned  course  at 
the  time. 

Yet  if  Esther  Ward  had  not  painted  Bertrand 
Coleman's  picture  she  might  still  be  — 

Ah,  well!  it  is   better,  perhaps,  as  it  is  for  all 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  5 

parties.      Had   she   heeded   her  presentiment   and 
refused,  I  should  not  have  this  story  to  tell. 

Let  me  begin,  however,  at  the  beginning. 

When  Esther  Ward  came  to  our  city  a  few  years 
ago,  she  brought  with  her  as  the  achievement  of  her 
ten  or  twelve  working  years  a  very  creditable  repu 
tation  in  artistic  circles. 

She  had  spent  several  years  abroad  under  excel 
lent  masters. 

Mrs.  Willow  rather  insisted  on  this,  by  way  of 
explaining  and  justifying  her  knowledge  of  one  who 
had  not  yet  been  recognized  by  our  set. 

This  was  after  a  meeting  of  the  Daughters  of 
St.  Paula.  Whereupon  Nannie  Oldfield,  one  of  the 
younger  Daughters,  to  her  friend,  Minnie  Gray,  of 
course  in  an  aside : 

"  What  of  three  or  four  measly  years  in  Europe. 
My  Aunt  Isabel  has  been  to  Europe  seven  times, 
and  all  around  the  world  twice." 

It  was  admitted  by  competent  judges  who  had 
seen  Esther  Ward's  pictures  at  the  Exhibition,  that 
she  had  spent  her  few  years  at  Kensington  and  in 
various  Italian  art  centers,  to  great  advantage. 

Indeed  she  had  a  talent,  of  which  one  critic  — 
and  he  the  greatest  —  had  said  with  his  wonted 
caution,  that  it  was  touched  with  genius. 

She  painted  portraits  with  exceeding  fidelity  and 
grace. 


6  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

Like  Hawthorne's  Hilda,  however,  she  would 
rather  have  spent  her  days  copying  from  the  Old 
Masters.  In  this  she  was  very  successful,  and  had 
had  a  number  of  orders  for  her  copies  of  Eoselli's 
"Last  Supper";  also  for  that  little  group  of  three 
angels  from  "  La  Disputa,"  which  she  loved  so  much 
and  reproduced  so  well. 

She  had,  however,  yielded  to  the  counsel  of  her 
master  and  certain  friends  among  art  critics,  and 
painted  a  few  of  her  own  conceptions  of  sacred  sub 
jects,  as,  for  example  :  "  Christ  Resting  at  Bethany," 
"  Gethsemane,"  and  "The  Forsaken  Christ."  This 
last  was  based  on  that  word  of  Scripture :  "  Then 
all  these,  leaving  him,  fled  away,"  and  was  a  very 
strong  and  pathetic  presentation  of  Christ's  going 
out  from  Gethsemane  in  the  hands  of  his  captors. 

You  will  agree  with  me,  I  am  sure,  that  she 
should  have  kept  to  the  work  of  painting  altar- 
pieces  for  convent  chapels  and  small  churches,  and 
not  bothered  about  portraits. 

But  unfortunately  for  our  conception  of  Esther's 
duty,  while  "  The  Forsaken  Christ "  was  mentioned 
with  distinction,  it  was  her  "Moss  Rosebud,"  the 
portrait  of  a  beautiful  little  girl  of  seven,  with  a 
cluster  of  half-opened  white  rosebuds  in  her  hands, 
which  took  a  prize  at  a  certain  art  exhibition  in 
New  York. 

After  that  she  had  three  orders  for  portraits  to 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  7 

one  for  an  altarpiece ;  and  as  she  was  dependent 
on  her  labor  for  her  living,  she  had  to  take  what 
she  could  get. 

This  fact  that  she  had  to  work  raised  a  nice 
question  in  our  set.  That  was  in  the  beginning, 
before  we  knew  of  her  reputation  in  art  circles. 

Mrs.  Eay  did  not  really  care  to  know  people  who 
worked  for  their  living,  but  after  a  little  talk  with 
her  husband,  she  told  the  ladies  of  the  Whist  Club 
that  in  her  opinion  neither  painting  pictures  nor 
writing  books  was  work. 

Indeed,  she  never  could  get  used  to  seeing  school 
teachers  received  on  equal  terms  socially,  and  had 
wished  very  much  for  a  by-law  excluding  them 
definitely  from  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula. 

This,  dear  reader,  was  a  high-class  religious  literary 
society.  The  Daughters  met  every  Thursday  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  because  they  were  ladies  of 
leisure,  and  most  of  them  wished  in  all  things  to 
distinguish  themselves  from  the  members  of  another 
larger  and  better-known  literary  association  which 
met  in  the  evening,  and  had  many  wage-earners  on 
its  register. 

A  few,  like  Mrs.  Frederick  Ormond,  and  one  or 
two  exceedingly  studious  and  earnest  New  England 
maiden  ladies,  converts  to  the  Faith,  held  member 
ship  in  both;  but  these  were  considered  eccentric 
by  the  rest  of  the  Daughters. 

All  of  our  friends  of  the  Whist  Club  had  sought 


8  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 

admission  into  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula,  because 
of  its  reputation  as  a  very  exclusive  society.  To  be 
sure  the  membership  fee  of  ten  dollars  a  year  for 
associate  members,  that  is,  those  who  were  excused 
from  writing  essays,  was  rather  in  the  nature  of  a 
prohibitory  tariff,  but  the  ladies  of  the  Whist  Club 
all  could  afford  it,  and  all  were  voted  in. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS. 


CHAPTEK  II. 

BUT   MOST  A  WOMAN. 

MRS.  RAY  was  especially  concerned  as  to  new 
people,  on  the  matter  of  family. 

Hence  she  consulted  with  Mrs.  Willow,  who 
alone  had  antecedent  knowledge  of  Miss  Ward, 
before  committing  herself  to  any  advance  to  the 
latter  lady. 

Mrs.  Willow's  information  was,  in  the  main,  reas 
suring. 

Yes ;  she  had  known  Miss  Ward  off  and  on  for 
a  good  many  years ;  long  before  she  ever  dreamed 
they  would  be  both  in  this  city  together. 

Respectable  family?  Oh,  yes,  and  rich  at  one 
time.  Father  and  mother  really  quite  presentable 
people.  All  the  girls  went  to  school  at  Brentwood ; 
the  oldest  in  Mrs.  Willow's  own  time,  Esther  eight 
or  ten  years  later. 

Why,  Mrs.  Ray  must  have  known  Esther  herself ! 

Come  to  think  of  it,  Mrs.  Ray  did  remember  a  girl 
named  Ward,  who  used  to  have  a  master  from  the 
city  for  painting,  who  was  bright  in  most  of  her 
studies,  and  took  nearly  all  the  prizes. 

But  Mother  Margaret  Mary  and  Sister  Josephine 


10  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

would  remember  what  wasn't  clear  in  Mrs.  Eay's 
mind. 

What  became  of  the  rest  of  the  family  ?  Died 
off,  mostly.  There  had  been  reverses.  Esther  gave 
lessons  until  she  had  got  money  enough  to  go  abroad 
to  study;  or,  perhaps,  there  was  a  little  saved  from 
the  wreck.  Mrs.  Willow  wasn't  sure. 

She  believed  there  were  two  brothers  left,  one 
older  and  one  younger  than  Esther.  She  had  heard 
that  one  of  them  was  dissipated. 

"  But  then,  my  dear,"  she  added,  "  lots  of  men 
are." 

"Yes,"  assented  Mrs.  Eay,  "and  if  they  drink 
their  own  money  I  don't  know  that  it's  anyone's 
business." 

"  We  must  be  charitable,"  said  Mrs.  Willow,  virtu 
ously.  "  Of  course  you'll  never  mention  it.  The 
poor  girl  has  enough  to  contend  with  in  making  her 
way  in  this  cold  place." 

Parenthetically,  Mrs.  Ray  never  did  mention  it 
except  to  her  husband  and  her  favorite  sister-in-law, 
and  Mrs.  Martin  and  Mrs.  Macduff,  all  of  whom  she 
charged  to  keep  it  to  themselves. 

"  But  Esther  Ward  is  all  right  herself,"  continued 
Mrs.  Willow,  "  and  her  pictures  are  perfectly  lovely, 
and  she  earns  enough  of  money  by  them  to  get 
along  with.  Her  studio  is  in  a  nice  part  of  the  city, 
and  I've  been  to  see  her  twice,  and  had  her  over  to 
the  house  last  Sunday." 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  11 

It  must  be  said  for  Mrs.  Willow  that  she  was 
kind-hearted,  and  had  a  good  deal  of  feeling  for 
"  Auld  Lang  Syne." 

Mrs.  Kay,  after  further  reassurance  from  Mother 
Margaret  Mary,  and  having  ascertained  that  the 
Fathers  at  St.  Loyola's  knew  favorably  of  Miss 
Ward  and  her  work,  expressed  a  willingness  that 
she  should  be  presented  to  her  one  day  when  they 
met  at  the  convent. 

Miss  Ward  was  introduced  to  Mrs.  Jones  on  the 
same  occasion. 

The  latter  essayed  at  once  the  part  of  a  patroness. 
Who  could  tell  but  that  Miss  Ward  might  yet 
amount  to  something  ? 

"You  know  I  am  going  to  have  a  few  friends 
next  Thursday  evening,"  said  Mrs.  Jones  to  Mrs. 
Eay  as  they  started  for  home, "  and  I'm  thinking  I'll 
ask  Miss  Ward.  She  can  stay  all  night  with  us. 
She's  alone  in  the  world,  and  it  will  be  a  charity 
to  show  her  a  little  attention.  I  suppose  she  lives 
miserably,  all  cluttered  up  in  her  studio,  and  hardly 
ever  has  a  comfortable  meal.  That's  the  way  with 
lots  of  those  artist-folks." 

Mrs.  Jones  was,  however,  destined  to  a  great  sur 
prise  ;  for  Esther  politely  declined  her  invitation,  on 
the  plea  of  a  previous  engagement.  Later,  the  elder 
lady  with  persistent  intent  at  lofty  patronage  visited 
her  studio  to  arrange  for  a  portrait  of  her  niece. 

"  Of  course  I  wouldn't  expect  to  pay  much  to  an 


12  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

amateur  like  you,  Miss  Ward,  but  I  like  your  work ; 
I  think  there's  a  good  deal  in  you,  and  I'd  like  to 
help  you  along." 

"  But,  dear  madame,"  said  Miss  Ward  pleasantly, 
"  I've  really  more  orders  on  hand  than  I  can  fill  for 
many  months." 

The  artist  never  dreamed  that  Mrs.  Jones  meant 
to  patronize  her.  She  saw  in  the  pompous,  over 
dressed  woman  before  her  merely  a  purse-proud, 
underbred  person,  for  whose  deficiencies  she  felt 
compassion,  tempered  with  a  little  amusement. 

"  Do  you  think  I  believed  her  ? "  said  Mrs.  Jones 
later,  in  the  privacy  of  her  own  sitting-room.  "  Not 
I !  Oh,  she's  a  haughty  minx,  she  is  !  But  pride 
goes  before  a  fall,  especially  empty  pride  like  that 
one's,  without  a  dollar  behind  it ! " 

Thenceforward  Mrs.  Jones  was  the  sternest  critic 
of  the  artist  and  the  woman ;  while  Esther,  most 
happy  in  that  she 

"  Lived  with  visions  for  her  company, 
Instead  of  men  and  women," 

recked  not  she  had  given  umbrage  to  Mrs.  Jones, 
nor  that  a  question  could  be  raised  as  to  her  fitness 
for  the  best  socially  that  the  new  city  of  her  home 
could  give  her. 

For  was  she  not  always  in  the  best  society  ? 
familiar  with  the  mind  and  soul  of  Michael  Angelo 
and  Raphael,  and  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  of  Giotto, 
Murillo,  Era  Angelico,  of  Pinturicchio  and  Perugino ; 


AND  OTHEK  WAYS.  13 

of  Tintoretto,  Titian,  Vandyke,  Kubens,  and  all  the 
splendid  galaxy,  who  have  strengthened  earthly 
eyes,  be  it  ever  so  little,  for  the  glories  which  will 
flash  upon  them  in  the  anterooms  of  heaven  ? 

Could  she  not  have  told  you  the  loves  and  losses, 
the  labors  and  triumphs  of  all  their  lives  ? 

She  was  well  versed  in  the  literature  of  art,  and 
in  the  poetry,  old  and  new,  which  is  food  for  art. 

And  in  this  glorious  company,  in  every  one  of 
whom  after  the  trial  of  time  only  what  is  high- 
minded  and  heavenly  of  virtue,  honor,  and  good 
report  survives,  her  mind  enlarged,  her  heart  grew 
deep  and  tender,  and  she  had  thoughts  that  she 
expressed  only  in  her  pictures,  or  whispered  to  a 
certain  little  portrait  which  was  curtained  all  day 
long,  and  unveiled  only  when  she  was  absolutely 
Gecure  from  further  interruption  and  ready  to  light 
her  blessed  candles  for  her  night  prayers. 

From  all  of  which  you  will  note  again,  dear 
reader,  that  pride  of  intellect  on  which  I  must 
insist  once  -more,  as  a  fault  of  Esther  Ward's ;  also  a 
secretiveness  that  can  hardly  be  commended ;  and 
an  obtuseness  to  the  condescension  of  her  social 
superiors  in  a  circle  where  rank  was  very  largely 
determined  by  money. 

But  Esther,  reverent-minded,  hero-worshipping, 
and  unworldly  though  she  was,  never  in  her  life 
had  the  consciousness  of  a  social  superior. 

However,  with  it  all,  and  despite  Mrs.  Jones'  dis- 


14  THE  WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

approval,  our  artist  had  her  great  successes  at  the 
New  York  Exhibition  and  our  own. 

In  several  of  the  society  journals  soon  following, 
her  name  was  seen  among  such  a  galaxy  of  notables 
at  Mrs.  Jameson-Tyndall's  "  at  home,"  that  the  most 
carping  hi  our  set  were  completely  satisfied  as  to 
her  fitness  for  recognition  ;  and  thenceforward  Miss 
Ward  had  more  friendly  calls,  more  cards  for  after 
noon  teas,  more  invitations  to  dinner  parties  and 
dances,  than  two  of  her  could  have  managed  with 
exclusive  devotion  to  the  social  side  of  life. 

Even  with  the  most  delicate  diplomacy  —  for 
she  appreciated  all  these  evidences  of  friendly 
interest  —  Esther  found  it  hard  to  save  her  working 
hours,  and  not  seem  churlish. 

After  all,  the  success  in  her  art  was  the  supreme 
thing  ;  she  had  served  too  long  and  laboriously  for  it 
to  imperil  it  for  a  lesser  good.  Still  it  was  sweet  to 
be  sought,  to  be  made  much  of,  to  be  compelled 
to  realize  that  the  artist  had  not  absorbed  all  of  the 
woman,  and  that  she  was  still  capable  of  a  fresh 
and  frank  enjoyment  of  the  pleasures  which  she 
had  had  to  forego  in  the  season  for  which  they  had 
been  fittest. 

Esther  was  in  some  respects  the  most  womanly 
of  women.  Though  her  girlhood  was  past  she  had 
still  the  youth  of  bright  eyes,  unwrinkled  skin, 
abundant  tresses,  and  the  physical  and  mental 
elasticity  which  is  a  woman's  best  strength.  She 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  15 

walked  with  a  girlish  quickness  and  spring;  and 
worked  with  energy  and  delight,  moving  to  a  climax 
ardent,  breathless  and  decisive ;  and  "  subsiding,"  as 
she  would  put  it,  at  the  twilight  hour  in  a  delicious 
languor,  fairer  visions  than  she  ever  hoped  to  em 
body,  glowing  against  the  dusk  before  her  tired  eyes. 
In  that  dusk  hour,  too,  she  opened  the  deep 
locket  which  hung  by  a  slender  gold  chain  about 
her  neck,  and  thought  happily  of  the  day  when  that 
which  it  enshrined  would  glow  in  its  place,  beheld 
and  understood  by  new  friends  and  old. 

These  were,  on  the  whole,  bright  days  for  Esther 
Ward.  Comparatively  young,  interesting,  if  not 
fair  to  look  upon,  with  a  simple,  sincere  good-will 
to  others,  and  the  ability  to  please  without  fawning 
or  cringing,  successful  in  the  work  of  her  choice,  she 
found  herself,  after  but  a  brief  sojourn  in  her  new 
abode,  encompassed  by  the  love  and  honor  and 
troops  of  friends  which  are  usually  the  portion  of 
those  to  the  manor  born,  or  won  by  a  much  longer 
career  of  fortune  and  service  than  had  been  hers. 

Then  over  it  all  was  the  foregleam  of  the  dearer 
and  sweeter  joy  expected. 

Of  course  there  were  shadows,  anxieties,  a  strong 
compelling  motive  for  hard  work  and  good  money 
returns  —  but  these  things  had  been  for  many 
years,  and  now  the  difficulties  that  could  not  be 
denied  were  at  least  more  easily  dealt  with. 


16  THE   WAT  OF  THE   WOULD 

Yes,  life  was  fair  in  these  days  ;  it  was  good  to 
see  the  sun,  and  the  bread  of  honest  toil  had  a  sweet 
savor. 

For  one  with  such  past  experiences  as  had  heen 
crowded  into  Esther's  still  short  life,  fortune  seemed 
almost  too  kind. 

She  said  so  one  day  to  an  artist  friend  with  whom 
she  was  on  those  comradely  terms  into  which  Mrs. 
Jones  thought  she  drifted  too  readily  with  persons 
of  the  opposite  sex.  But  they  had  been  fellow-stu 
dents  in  Eome,  and  were  now  fellow-workers  in  the 
American  home  of  culture  and  learning. 

"Don't  worry,  my  gentle  gazelle.  At  this  very 
moment,  when  apparently  you  are  on  the  crest  of 
the  wave  of  success  in  your  art  and  popularity  in 
'  sassiety,'  some  one  up  in  an  attic  or  down  in  a  cel 
lar  is  saying :  '  Oh,  if  these  people  knew  what  I  know 
about  Esther  Ward ! ' " 

Esther  laughed  lightly.  She  was  used  to  her 
old  comrade's  badinage. 

But  almost  instantly  a  faint  shudder  passed  over 
her. 

"  Why,  Esther,  you  don't  mind  ? "  he  said,  notic 
ing  her  sudden  pallor  under  his  laughing  eyes. 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed,"  she  answered,  recovering  her 
self;  "I  felt  a  slight  chill  —  am  I  in  a  draft?  I 
hardly  ever  know  when  I  am,"  and  she  moved  a  few 
steps,  and  turned  her  face  a  little  from  her  friend's 
searching  but  kindly  gaze. 


AND   OTHEK   WAYS.  17 

"Don't  you  know  the  old  superstition  ?  Tennyson 
speaks  of  it  in  '  Guinevere ' : 

'  I  shudder  :  some  one  steps  across  my  grave  ! ' 

"  Esther  Ward  !  if  you  weren't  the  strongest,  most 
level-headed  woman  I  know,  I  should  say  you  were 
getting  morbid.  ...  By  the  way,  this  is  a  tremen 
dous  picture  of  yours  —  he  was  standing  now  before 
'  The  Forsaken  Christ,'  which  he  had  turned  so  that 
a  splendid  light  fell  upon  it.  To  think  that  it 
should  meet  so  much  less  favor  than  that  pretty 
triviality, '  The  Moss  Eose  Bud ! '  " 

Esther  was  silent,  scrutinizing  her  own  work,  as 
was  her  wont,  with  rigorous  eyes. 

"  It  is  the  truth  of  its  awful  sadness  and  deso 
lation  that's  against  it.  I  suppose,"  resumed  her 
friend,  "  people  want  you  to  make  them  feel  good  to 
themselves,  whether  you  are  a  painter  of  pictures, 
or  a  singer  of  songs,  or  a  teller  of  stories.  They 
know  that  sorrow  is  dogging  their  steps.  They  want 
you  so  to  charm  them  through  their  eyes  or  ears 
that  they  won't  hear  its  footfalls.  They  know  that 
there  is  a  Gethsemane  and  a  flight  of  summer  friends 
in  every  adult  life ;  that  your  Christ "  — 

"  Your  Christ !  Oh,  you  miserable  Unitarian  ! " 
cried  Esther.  "  Where  were  you  this  moment  but 
for  Him  ? " 

"  Softly,  softly  !  I  didn't  mean  to  rouse  the  slum 
bering  Katherine  of  Alexandria  ! " 


18  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

"  Yes,  she  was  a  martyr  for  Christ's  divinity ;  I'm 
glad  you  know  that,"  said  Esther,  with  a  new  light 
in  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  I  know  many  a  thing  that  I  don't  get  the 
credit  of,"  he  answered  lightly ;  "  but  I  know  this 
also:  that  I  never  look  at  that  steadfast  face  and 
those  bound  hands  without  thinking  of  Browning's 

lines  : 

'  I  go  in  the  rain,  and  more  than  needs 
A  rope  cut  both  my  wrists  behind  ; 
And  I  think  by  the  feel,  my  forehead  bleeds  — 
For  they  fling,  whoever  has  a  mind, 
Stones  at  me  '  — 

"  There  you  are  again,  as  if  our  Lord  were  a  sort 
of  a  glorified  national  leader,  instead  of  the  Saviour 
of  the  world  —  as  if  politics  "  — 

"Politics  were  in  the  minds  of  his  persecutors," 
said  the  man  gravely ;  "  but  dear  little  woman, 
essence  of  orthodoxy,  don't  let  us  quarrel.  I'd  give 
ten  years  of  the  life  that  probably  remains  for  me, 
to  have  your  faith ;  and  if  I  can't  yet  accept  Christ 
as  you  do,  is  it  nothing  that  I  bow  down  before 
Him  as  I  can  accept  him  ?  that  I  can  take  in  some 
sort  the  message  of  the  picture  which  your  faith 
has  enabled  you  to  make?  I  wonder  of  all  who 
will  see  it,  in  time  to  come,  if  any  will  feel  more 
than  I,  that  it  was  painted  for  a  soul  bereft ! " 

And  with  a  long,  reverent  look  at  the  sad,  stead 
fast  face  of  the  pictured  Christ,  he  turned  abruptly 
to  leave  the  studio. 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  19 

"  Won't  you  say  '  good-by,'  Jack  ? " 

"  Good-by,  Esther,"  he  said,  clasping  for  an  instant 
the  firm  little  fingers. 

She  remained  where  he  had  left  her,  before  the 
picture ;  but  she  was  thinking  of  herself,  not  of  Jack 
Holmwood. 

"  Oh,  what  if  I  have  painted  it  for  myself ! "  she 
said,  with  a  longer  and  colder  shudder. 

Just  then  Mrs.  Mint  came  in. 

Mrs.  Mint  was  not  of  a  cultivated  mind,  but  she 
respected  Esther  as  a  woman  making  her  way  in 
the  world  by  her  honest  labor. 

Had  she  not  done  so  herself  in  by-gone  days, 
albeit  on  a  lower  line  of  effort?  So  a  fellow- 
feeling  made  her  kind. 

Then  she  gratefully  remembered  Esther's  fidelity 
in  the  day  of  seeming  adverse  fortune. 

Moreover,  it  delighted  her  soul  to  see  Esther's 
obliviousness  to  Mrs.  Jones'  attempts  at  patronage, 
and  to  the  social  lines  drawn  in  our  set. 

Mrs.  Mint  had  ordered  replicas  of  "  Christ  Eesting 
in  Bethany  "  for  the  chapels  of  two  charitable  insti 
tutions  of  which  she  was  a  generous  patroness,  and 
paid  for  them  to  Esther  a  price  at  which  the  latter 
protested. 

"  It's  all  right.  I  know  a  good  thing  when  I  see 
it,"  said  the  elder  woman,  with  brusque  good  nature. 
But  she  would  not  look  twice  at  "The  Forsaken 
Christ." 


20  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WOELD 

"  It  gives  me  cold  chills ! "  she  said  to  her  faithful 
Martha. 

"It's  the  best  thing  she's  ever  done,  ma'am," 
responded  the  latter. 

"I  wish  that  little  woman  hadn't  fallen  in  with 
those  Whist  Club  people,"  said  Mrs.  Mint  irrele 
vantly.  "  Esther  Ward  is  no  more  fit  to  deal  with 
the  women  of  that  crowd  than  a  child  of  five  would 
be.  She  sees  things  straight,  to  begin  with, —  what 
none  of  them  do;  and  she  tells  them  straight,  if  she 
speaks  at  all, —  what  none  of  them  can.  Then  she's 
living  in  Heaven,  or  in  Greece,  or  Eome,  or  some 
outlandish  place,  most  of  the  time,  and  she  doesn't 
know  what  people  on  earth  are  thinking  or  planning 
about.  And  the  worst  of  it  is,  she  believes  every 
one  is  as  good  as  herself  about  minding  her  own 
business.  I  can't  imagine  how  a  woman  can  come 
to  her  time  of  life  with  so  little  worldly  sense." 
•  "Quite  so,  ma'am;  but  poets  and  artists  aren't 
folks." 

"  I  suppose  not,  Martha.  Think  of  that  girl  want 
ing  to  share  all  she  possessed  with  me,  when  everyone 
else  had  turned  away.  Oh,  of  course  I  don't  forget 
the  Ormonds,  who  asked  me  to  make  their  house 
my  home  as  long  as  I  might  need  to.  But  Esther 
risked  more  even  than  they." 

"  Quite  so,  ma'am,"  assented  Martha. 

Mrs.  Mint  was  no  fool.  Indeed,  her  hard  busi 
ness  sense  is  said  to  have  been  the  cornerstone  of 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  21 

the  edifice  of  the  late  Mr.  Mint's  colossal  fortune. 
Sometimes  with  her  intimates  she  was  not  averse 
to  displaying  herself  and  her  late  liege  lord  as  a 
self-made  couple,  reasonably  proud  of  their  job. 

She  had  a  grim  humor  of  her  own  which  she 
sometimes  indulged  in  her  confidential  chats  with 
Martha  Cutts,  the  humble  but  helpful  companion 
of  the  years  of  her  rising  fortunes.  Mrs.  Cutts  was 
a  widow  of  mixed  Irish  and  English  ancestry,  who 
had  seen  better  days,  but  had  the  good  judgment 
not  to  obtrude  them  unduly  on  those  who  had  seen 
worse. 

She  knew  by  a  modest  personal  experience  the 
way  of  life  among  gentle  folk  in  the  Old  World,  and 
she  was  young  enough  and  shrewd  enough  on  her 
coming  to  America  to  grasp  the  social  conditions 
here,  and  find  her  advantage,  without  falling  into 
the  mistake  common  to  some  well-born  Old  World 
people,  of  disparaging  us  Americans  for  our  social 
deflections  from  their  ideal. 

She  had  been  invaluable  to  Mrs.  Mint,  as  Mrs. 
Mint  had  been  invaluable  to  her  ;  and  the  two  were 
on  terms  of  unclouded  good  comradeship,  although 
Mrs.  Cutts  attended  her  employer's  social  functions 
simply  as  an  adjunct  of  the  dressing-room.  But 
fortunate,  indeed,  is  a  hostess  like  Mrs.  Mint,  with 
her  other  self  in  that  place  of  pre-eminent  advantage 
for  character  study. 


22  THE  WAY  01?  THE  WORLD 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE  SUCCEEDING  OF  SUCCESS. 

MKS.  MINT  estimated  our  artist  fairly.  Esther 
was  a  poor  judge  of  character. 

It  was  not  that  she  lacked  the  prompt  instincts 
for  or  against  people  which  most  women  have  for 
their  protection. 

But  she  had  a  reasonable  mind  and  a  delicate 
conscience,  and  she  feared  that  forbidding  instincts 
might  be  rash  judgments.  In  any  event,  she  felt 
obliged  to  verify  them  by  giving  the  person  against 
whom  they  pointed  a  warning  finger,  the  benefit  of 
the  doubt. 

Why  should  she  not  think  as  well  of  this  one  or 
that,  who  came  to  her  with  fair  words  or  kindly 
overtures,  as  she  would  have  them  think  of  her, 
were  the  case  reversed  ? 

To  be  sure,  a  woman  who  worked  from  necessity 
could  not  be  intimate  nor  even  friendly  with  every 
one,  however  agreeable,  who  sought  her. 

To  be  sure,  the  question  of  congeniality  must 
regulate  even  the  offered  associations  that  were  most 
insistent.  But  how  kind  of  these  people  to  seek  a 
comparative  stranger  with  such  unwearying  evidence 
of  good  will  J 


AND   OTHEK  WAYS.  23 

Even  Mrs.  Jones  meant  well.  It  was  a  pity  her 
early  education  had  been  neglected ;  otherwise  she 
had  not  so  underrated  the  things  of  the  mind,  nor 
set  such  extravagant  value  on  the  crudest  external 
evidences  of  wealth,  thought  Esther. 

Mrs.  Jones  and  she  had  no  interests  in  common 
to  bridge  the  difference  in  their  years,  nor  had  the 
former  pressed  her  advances  after  the  first  attempts 
at  patronage,  which  Esther,  differently  understand 
ing,  had  declined,  but  not  resented. 

Thus  was  the  younger  woman  free  from  all  need 
of  regulating  an  intercourse  which  had  been  little 
to  her  taste,  at  best. 

Their  casual  meetings,  however,  at  the  Daughters 
of  St.  Paula,  or  at  the  houses  of  the  acquaintances 
whom  they  soon  possessed  in  common,  invariably 
had  a  depressing  influence  on  Esther. 

"  What  has  that  woman  against  me  ?  "  she  often 
asked  herself,  innocent  as  she  was  of  offense.  And 
then,  "  Why  should  she  have  aught  against  me  ? 
Esther  Ward,  you  are  making  too  much  of  yourself. 
She  doesn't  think  of  you  at  all." 

So  when  circumstances  brought  them  together, 
however  disagreeable  the  elder  woman's  bearing, 
Esther's  manner  was  invariably  marked  with  the 
gentle  deference  to  riper  years,  and  the  ready  yield 
ing  of  opinion  on  indifferent  matters,  which  she 
manifested  to  Mrs.  Mint,  or,  for  that  matter,  to  poor 
old  Madame  Vargous,  a  lady  of  distinguished  mem- 


24  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 

ories  but  fallen  fortunes,  whom  Mrs.  Jones  had 
dubbed  "  The  Great  Has  Been." 

On  other  basis,  however,  was  the  artist's  inter 
course  with  Mrs.  Willow. 

Mrs.  Willow,  indeed,  since  Esther's  work  had 
been  so  widely  praised,  and  since  Esther  herself 
had  become  a  person  of  interest  to  the  editors  of 
art  notes  and  the  sketchers  of  celebrities,  would 
have  had  her  at  all  her  functions  in  the  role  of 
rising  star. 

She  was  proud  of  having  made  of  Esther  before 
the  latter's  notable  success  ;  and,  in  her  absence, 
sometimes  boasted  of  having  discovered  her. 

In  her  presence,  however,  she  attempted  no 
patronage.  There  was  something  about  Esther  of 
reserve  and  native  independence,  even  in  her  gay 
est  and  friendliest  hour,  which  slightly  overawed 
Mrs.  Willow. 

Then  it  was  useless  to  try  to  interest  the  artist  in 
society  news.  She  never  could  supplement  a  dainty 
bit  of  gossip  with  additional  details  —  despite  all 
the  people  she  knew  and  the  things  she  must  hear, 
if  she  paid  the  least  attention. 

Eeflecting  whereon,  Mrs.  Willow  came  to  the  con 
clusion  that  those  Daughters  of  St.  Paula  who 
thought  Esther  a  little  stupid,  outside  of  her  art, 
were  perfectly  right. 

Indeed,  she  herself  had  often  marvelled  at  the 
things  which  went  on  at  the  very  meetings  of  the 


AND  OTHEE  WAYS.  25 

Daughters,  right  under  Esther's  eyes,  and  which 
she  never  noticed. 

Doubtless  it  was  a  good  fault.  Esther  at  least 
was  a  safe,  if  not  a  responsive,  confidante  ;  she  never 
seemed  to  remember  a  bit  of  news  over  night. 

There  was  another  nice  thing  about  Esther,  too. 
She  was  blankly  indifferent  to  Mrs.  Willow's 
widower  brother.  This  might  not  seem  to  the 
world  in  general  so  remarkable  as  it  seemed  to  Mrs. 
Willow.  Even  Mrs.  Jones  had  never  intimated 
that  Esther's  occasional  appearance  at  Mrs.  Wil 
low's  Sunday  afternoons  or  evenings  was  even  re 
motely  affected  by  the  probable  presence  of  Henry 
Graham. 

For  this  considerateness  Mrs.  Willow  meant  to 
reward  Esther  in  due  time,  by  promoting  her 
acquaintance  with  some  well-to-do  man  who  could 
give  her  a  good  home.  She  had  her  doubts,  of 
course,  as  to  whether  women  like  Esther  Ward 
or  Miss  Ruth  May  would  make  desirable  wives ; 
for  artists  and  literary  people  are  so  very  peculiar. 
Still,  women  had  to  take  some  risks  in  marriage. 
Why  shouldn't  the  men  take  some  ? 

So  the  fact  remained  that  Esther,  if  a  little  dull 
in  social  matters,  was  not  a  designing  woman ;  that 
she  was  no  enemy  of  the  prospects  of  Mr.  Graham's 
affectionate  nieces  and  nephews ;  that  she  was  a 
drawing  card  in  Mrs.  Willow's  salon,  inasmuch  as 
she  was  both  a  good  talker  and  a  good  listener,  and  was 


26  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

becoming  more  and  more  of  a  personage  whom  people 
liked  to  meet,  and  whom  it  was  well  to  be  in  with. 

Then  Mrs.  Walter  Wise  didn't  in  the  least  resent 
her.  Of  course  Esther  never  could  be  to  Mrs. 
Willow  just  what  Mrs.  Wise  was,  and  Mrs.  Wise 
knew  it. 

Finally  Mrs.  Willow  and  Mrs.  Wise  both  really 
liked  Esther;  and  though  in  private  they  and  Mrs. 
Ray  sometimes  laughed  a  little  over  this  or  that 
evidence  of  her  slowness  "  to  'catch  on  to  things," 
as  they  phrased  it,  still  Esther  might  have  heard 
their  discussions  with  no  feeling  save  a  mild  wonder 
at  the  interest  of  three  adult  women  with  homes, 
husbands  and  children  to  take  care  of,  in  matters  so 
remote  from  their  own  business  and  bosoms. 

Once  the  ice  —  of  whose  chilly  vicinage  Esther 
had  been  unconscious  —  had  been  broken  between 
herself  and  Mrs.  Ray,  they  found  some  common 
ground. 

It  had  been  proved  by  the  testimony  of  Mother 
Margaret  Mary  and  Sister  Josephine  that  they  had 
been  contemporary  convent  girls,  though  not  class 
mates,  at  Brentwood ;  and  this  alone,  as  all  convent- 
bred  women  know,  is  a  powerful  help  to  friendship. 

To  be  sure  Mrs.  Ray  —  because  Esther  was  rather 
indistinct  in  her  own  retrospect,  and  also  because 
she  was  anxious  to  be  reckoned  for  as  long  as  pos 
sible  among  the  youngest  of  the  matrons  in  our  set  — 
would  have  it  that  our  artist  must  have  been  a  pos- 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  27 

tulant,  or  at  least  a  parlor  boarder,  with  intention  of 
entering  the  novitiate. 

But  when  this  notion,  which  was  fast  assuming 
the  character  of  a  fixed  idea  in  Mrs.  Eay's  mind  and 
on  her  tongue,  reached  Sister  Josephine,  that  good 
lady,  who  had  an  uncomfortably  long  and  infallible 
memory,  and  who  had  kept  the  school-register, 
assured  Mrs.  Kay,  in  presence  of  several  other  old 
alumnse,  that  Esther  was  exactly  four  years  younger 
than  herself,  although  in  schooldays  in  more  ad 
vanced  classes. 

On  this  Mrs.  Eay  abandoned  the  trail  of  a  possi 
ble  religious  novitiate,  in  her  casual  explorations  of 
Esther's  past,  with  a  celerity  beautiful  to  witness. 

She  did  not  avenge  this  annoying  incident  on 
Esther,  however,  as  some  less  devout  woman  might 
have  done. 

Mrs.  Ray,  though  slower  than  several  of  our  set 
to  yield  to  Esther's  undeniable  attraction,  and  less 
impressed  by  the  verdict  of  what  some  of  them 
called  "  Protestant  society,"  had  finally  come  to  like 
our  artist  for  herself. 

Mrs.  Ray  was  as  willing  as  Mrs.  Jones  to  play 
the  part  of  patroness,  and  as  anxious  to  do  it  with 
little  or  no  financial  expenditure.  But  she  was 
more  modern  and  better  tempered  than  Mrs.  Jones, 
and  her  patronage,  therefore,  was  in  a  less  offensive 
spirit,  though  it  threatened  at  one  time  embarrass 
ing  possibilities  for  Esther. 


28  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

For  example,  in  the  beginning  of  their  friendship 
Mrs.  Eay  had  matured  a  plan  for  soliciting  orders 
in  the  convents  and  among  the  clergy  for  Esther,  on 
the  plea  of  helping  "  a  struggling  artist,"  (for  to  Mrs. 
Eay  equally  with  Mrs.  Jones  everyone  who  earned 
her  living,  especially  in  the  fine  arts,  was  necessarily 
poor  and  struggling,)  but  Esther  discovered  the  plan 
in  time,  and  showed  such  unfeigned  dismay  and 
such  a  list  of  waiting  commissions,  that  Mrs.  Eay 
abandoned  for  the  time  her  attempt  at  vicarious 
benevolence  to  aspiring  genius. 

"  But  her  intentions  were  good,"  said  Esther,  ad 
dressing  the  mysterious  portrait,  now  unveiled  for  the 
delight  of  her  solitude,  "  and  if  I  had  been  in  need 
of  work,  I've  no  doubt  her  good  word  would  have 
helped  me  greatly.  She  was — yes — really — a  little 
officious  ;  but  how  could  she  know  ?  Perhaps  she  is 
right  in  chiding  me  for  being  too  quiet  about  my 
commissions ;  but  it  seems  to  me  in  the  worst  of 
taste  to  force  affairs  of  this  kind  on  my  friends' 
notice.  What  do  you  think,  dear  ?  I'm  sure  you 
would  not  wish  me  to  do  differently." 

The  pictured  eyes  seemed  to  look  a  bright  ap 
proval  ;  and  Esther,  satisfied  on  that  score,  but  fear 
ing  she  had  failed  in  appreciation  of  Mrs.  Eay's  kind 
intent,  wrote  a  very  friendly  note  promising  to  come 
in  at  her  next  Day,  sent  it  out  for  the  midnight 
mail,  and  fell  asleep  at  peace  with  herself  and  all 
the  world. 


AND   OTHEE   WAYS.  29 


CHAPTER   IV. 

OUR   WHIST    CLUB    KEEPS   LENT. 

"  I  DON'T  feel  quite  right  about  having  our  Whist 
Club  meet  in  Lent."  It  was  Mrs.  Kay  who  spoke, 
and  she  was  the  president  for  the  year. 

"  I'd  like  to  know  why  not ;  it  isn't  a  sin  to  play 
whist  in  Lent,"  retorted  Mrs.  Jones. 

"  I  know  that,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Ray,  puckering  her 
large  white  forehead  in  perplexity ;  "  but  it  doesn't 
seem  just  the  thing.  There's  the  company,  after  the 
games,  and  the  refreshments,  and  " — 

"  Well,  nobody  made  an  evening  affair  of  it  and 
asked  the  gentlemen,  except  you  and  Mrs.  Willow," 
put  in  Mrs.  Macduff. 

"  Mrs.  Mint  used  to,"  said  Mrs.  Wise  wistfully. 

A  slight  shadow  fell  on  the  little  company.  There 
was  a  general  painful  consciousness  of  a  multitude 
of  good  times  forfeited  by  sheer  stupidity ;  but  there 
was  also  a  tacit  agreement  to  divide  the  blame  and 
ignore  it. 

"I  don't  think  any  of  us  are  bound  to  fast," 
ventured  Mrs.  Martin. 

"  But  we  ought  to  do  something,"  said  Mrs,  Ray, 
who  was  really  a  well-intentioned  woman,  and 


30  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WOELD 

devout  in  her  way.  "  Father  Drane's  sermon  last 
Sunday  scared  me.  Perhaps  some  of  us  could 
fast  if  we  tried." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  we  ought  to  do  something," 
echoed  Mrs.  Willow. 

"I'm  going  to  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula  every 
week,"  announced  Mrs.  Eay  in  a  tone  of  determina 
tion,  which  proved  that  she  was  not  to  be  turned 
from  at  least  one  penitential  practice  befitting  the 
season. 

Mrs.  Wise,  who  had  a  keen  sense  of  humor  which 
it  sometimes  sorely  taxed  her  diplomacy  to  keep  in 
check,  bit  her  lip  hard. 

"  I'll  go,  too,"  declared  Mrs.  Willow.  "  Won't  you, 
Sister  Wise  ? " 

"  Why,  certainly,"  said  the  lady  appealed  to ; 
"though  I  must  confess  I  rather  enjoy  the  meet 
ings." 

This  with  delicate  deference,  as  if  she  were 
acknowledging  some  morbid  fancy  in  food. 

"Well,  I  don't,"  frankly  admitted  Mrs.  Eay; 
"though  of  course  it's  [the  thing  to  belong  to  the 
Daughters  of  St.  Paula. 

"  Nor  I,  either,"  said  Mrs.  Macduff.  "  And,"  wax- 
nig  bolder,  "  I'm  almost  afraid  of  Miss  May.  What 
is  it  we're  on  now,  anyhow  ?  " 

"The  Ten  Persecutions  of  the  Early  Christians," 
answered  Mrs.  Martin,  promptly. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  31 

"  Oh,  yes  !  well,  at  the  last  meeting  she  was 
talking  about  St.  Peter  —  oh,  was  it  St.  Paul  ? 
Well,  it's  much  the  same  thing ;  they're  always 
talked  about  together.  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  she 
was  talking  about  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  and  I  was 
away  back,  sitting  next  to  Mrs.  Forde.  We  hadn't 
seen  each  other  for  ever  so  long,  and  she  was  telling 
me  about  her  sister,  Mrs.  Allison,  and  the  last 
baby  —  oh,  you  never  heard  of  such  a  case  !  —  and 
we  really  neither  of  us  noticed  that  Miss  May  had  got 
started.  Well,  she  paused,  and  then  I  noticed,  and 
thought  she'd  forgotten  something.  But  we  didn't 
think  it  had  anything  to  do  with  us.  Then  in 
another  minute  she  came  to  a  dead  standstill  and 
looked  straight  ahead  —  that  aggravating  way  she 
has ;  till  half  a  dozen  of  the  members  looked  over 
in  our  direction.  We'd  been  talking  very  low,  and 
bothering  nobody.  I  think  she's  perfectly  horrid. 
Don't  you  ?  " —  to  Mrs.  Wise. 

Now  Mrs.  Wise  thought  the  lady  in  question  was 
perfectly  right,  and  would  love  to  have  said  so ;  but 
Mrs.  Macduff  was  one  of  her  patronesses  and  Miss 
May  was  not.  Then  the  absent  are  always  wrong, 
as  the  French  have  it.  But  she  compromised. 

"  Miss  May  is,  well,  a  little  peculiar.  All  the  old 
New  England  families  are." 

"  Well,  it's  horrid  to  be  peculiar,"  said  Mrs.  Eay ; 
"but  I  suppose  it  would  be  good  for  us  all  to  learn 
something  about  the  martyrs.  It's  going  to  be  my 


32  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

practice  for  this  Lent,  anyway.  But  about  having 
our  whist  during  Lent." 

"We  might  put  it  to  a  vote,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Martin. 

"  Yes ;  let  us.  Oh,  I  heard  that  Mrs.  Mint  has 
paid  off  the  mortgage  on  St.  Mary's  Orphanage.  Of 
course,  though,  she  can  well  afford  to." 

"  She's  not  bashful  about  telling  she  did  it," 
snapped  Mrs.  Jones. 

"  Mrs.  Ormond  told  me,"  said  Mrs.  Wise. 

"  Mrs.  Ormond  is  just  like  Esther  Ward ;  she 
thinks  it's  awful  to  go  to  the  theatre  or  to  parties 
in  Lent,"  said  Mrs.  Martin. 

"  The  airs  of  that  woman  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Jones. 

"  Just  because  her  husband  wrote  a  book  ! "  said 
Mrs.  Martin,  sympathetically. 

"He's  written  four  books,"  corrected  Mrs.  Eay, 
who  felt  a  possible  patroness's  obligation  to  uphold 
her  especial  literary  man. 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Jones  impatiently. 
"  Anyone  might  write  a  book,  if  they'd  put  in  the 
stuff  that  some  folks  do.  Now  there's  Miss  May's 
book"— 

"  Sh — h  —  ! "  said  Mrs.  Wise,  for  Miss  May  was 
the  president  and  bright  particular  star  of  the 
Daughters  of  St.  Paula,  and  some  of  her  satellites 
were  within  hearing. 

Mrs.  Wise  had  never  been  guilty  of  kicking  any 
one  who  was  up. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  33 

"  But  Mr.  Ormond's  books  are  good  —  my  hus 
band  says  so.  I  never  have  read  any  of  them 
myself,  but  my  sister  has  told  me  the  plot  of  them 
all,  and  they're  awfully  '  cute.'  Just  like  what 
happens." 

"  But  she  does  not  write  books  ! "  persisted  Mrs. 
Jones,  bitterly.  "  Who  i<*  she,  anyhow  ?  She  used 
to  live  out  in  Groveland,  and  they  say  she  taught 
in  a  country  school." 

"But  she's  a  Daughter  of  St.  Paula,"  said  Mrs. 
Macduff,  feebly. 

"  I  wonder  how  she  ever  manages  the  dues.  Those 
literary  people  are  poorer  than  church  mice,"  said 
Mrs.  Jones. 

"  My  husband  says  Mr.  Ormond  is  bound  to 
rise,  and  some  of  them  really  do  make  a  living. 
There's  Mr.  Howells,  you  know,"  said  Mrs.  Eay,  "and 
Mr.  Crawford.  Then  she's  a  great  scholar  "  — 

"  "Well,  what  does  she  know  except  what  was 
already  in  books,  for  anyone  to  learn  before  she 
learned  it  ?  "  persisted  Mrs.  Jones.  "  Now  if  she  had 
found  out  something  that  no  one  ever  knew  — 
isn't  that  so?" 

No  one  was  quite  ready  for  this  view  of  the 
case. 

"The  old  New  England  families  are  so  queer," 
said  Mrs.  Wise,  vaguely.  "Lots  of  Miss  May's 
folks  are  High  Church  Episcopalians,  and  they're 
awfully  strict  about  Lent." 


34  THE  WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

"  It  wouldn't  be  right  for  us  to  be  easier  than 
they  are,"  said  Mrs.  Eay.  "  Weren't  we  going  to 
vote  about  it?" 

The  vote  was  taken,  and  stood  eight  to  four  for 
dropping  whist  during  Lent ;  and  Mrs.  Eay  attended 
six  consecutive  meetings  of  the  Daughters  of  St. 
Paula  without  flinching. 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  35 


CHAPTEE   V. 

THE   LADIES   AND   THE   LION. 

Miss  MAY  had  secured  a  real  Lion  for  the  Easter 
entertainment  of  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula.  He 
was  great ;  he  was  high-priced ;  he  was  hard  to  get 
at  any  price ;  still  more  important,  he  was  fashion 
able.  His  name  was  known  the  minute  it  was 
spoken,  not  only  in  the  most  fashionable  circles  in 
the  city  of  Miss  May's  home,  but  in  vastly  more 
fashionable  circles  in  every  city  of  the  land,  and  in 
many  lands. 

How  did  Miss  May  get  him  ?  Nobody  knew. 
Miss  May  had  no  confidantes.  Perhaps  that  was 
why  she  had  always  heretofore  got  for  herself  or 
her  good  works,  anything  she  had  set  her  heart  on. 

At  the  special  meeting  called  early  in  Lent  for 
the  making  of  the  necessary  arrangements,  the 
Daughters  were  in  a  flutter  of  pleasurable  excite 
ment. 

"  We  shall  have  the  entertainment  in  the  evening, 
in  Loyola  Hall,"  announced  Miss  May. 

Mrs.  "Willow  was  up  like  a  flash. 

"  Oh,  Miss  May,  do  you  really  think  that  is  best  ? 
Wouldn't  it  be  better  to  charge  a  little  more,  and 


36 

have  it  in  the  Diamond  Drawing-rooms  ?     They're 
so  pretty." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  Miss  May,  we  would  all  be  willing 
to  dispose  of  tickets  at  five  dollars  apiece,  to  have  it 
there,"  added  Mrs.  Jones. 

"If  it  is  in  Loyola  Hall  everybody  can  come," 
objected  Mrs.  Eay. 

"  I  want  everybody  to  come,"  said  the  president 
of  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula,  calmly. 

"  I  know  some  lovely  people  who  would  pay  high 
for  tickets  if  everybody  wasn't  to  be  admitted," 
urged  Mrs.  Eay. 

"  With  '  everybody '  there  the  loveliest  will  be 
included,"  rejoined  this  aggravating  president. 

"  But  I  thought  anything  we  were  to  have  was 
to  be  kept  just  among  ourselves,"  complained  Mrs. 
Martin. 

"  So  it  is,"  responded  Miss  May,  benignly.  "  Just 
among  us  Catholics ;  that  is,"  with  dancing  eyes, 
"unless  some  of  our  Protestant  friends,  drawn  by 
the  shining  of  our  Star,  should  entreat  the  privilege 
of  tickets." 

"  Entreat  —  the  —  privilege  —  Protestants  !  " 
gasped  little  Mrs.  Martin,  who  regarded  our  sepa 
rated  brethren,  socially  speaking,  as  superior  beings." 

"  Miss  May  is  so  peculiar,"  sighed  Mrs.  Eay. 

"If  she  goes  on  like  this,  one  might  as  well 
belong  to  the  Aubrey  de  Vere  Eeading  Circle," 
whispered  Mrs.  Wise ;  and  she  was  about  to  relate 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  37 

some  enormity  of  democracy  committed  by  this 
association,  when  Miss  May  tapped  for  order. 

"  The  lecture  will  take  place  on  the  evening  of 
Thursday  in  Easter  week,  in  Loyola  Hall,  at  popular 
prices,  fifty  cents  a  ticket.  The  secretary  and  the 
treasurer  will  distribute  to  each  her  share ;  money 
to  be  given  in  therefor  two  weeks  before  the  lecture." 

Miss  May  was  a  bit  of  a  czar.  She  believed  she 
had  to  be. 

Mrs.  Willow  had  a  hospitable  heart.  She  also 
had  her  Day. 

In  this  she  was  not  unusual.  Every  member  of 
the  Whist  Club,  most  of  the  married  and  a  few 
of  the  unmarried,  Daughters  of  St.  Paula  had  their 
Days. 

The  latest  matron  in  the  set  to  take  a  Day,  had 
severely  reprimanded  her  oldest  lad  for  saying  with 
levity : 

"  Why,  there  ain't  enough  Days  to  go  'round ! " 

But  Mrs.  Willow  had  chosen  her  Day  wisely.  She 
was  "  at  home  "  from  four  o'clock  Sunday  afternoon. 

It  was  well  known  to  the  intimates  of  her  house 
that  a  delightful  high  tea  was  served  at  half-past  six, 
and  there  were  dainty  refreshments  again  at  half- 
past  ten. 

Mrs.  Willow  had  a  clever  husband,  and,  as  we 
have  seen,  a  widower  brother  who  resided  with  them, 
and  was  reputed  to  be  rich. 

With  such  attractions,  it  is  not  strange  that  her 
Day  was  a  success. 


38  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

The  men  could  come,  and  did  come,  as  they  came 
to  no  other  Day;  and  while  these  were  relaxing 
their  minds  she  got  many  a  choice  bit  of  news,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  very  cream  of  current  events 
from  the  ladies. 

Well  stored  thus  early  in  the  week,  she  made  it 
a  conscientious  duty  to  look  in  on  all  the  Days  of 
all  her  friends ;  nor  was  she  niggard  in  dispensing 
her  early-hived  treasures  of  information. 

Now  it  was  her  dear  delight  to  have  as  many 
celebrities  as  possible  at  her  Days. 

When,  therefore,  she  heard  of  this  phenomenal 
Lion  secured  by  Miss  May,  and  certain  to  be  in 
town  (as  he  had  distinguished  relatives)  over 
Sunday,  she  bent  all  her  mind  to  the  achievement 
of  him  for  her  guest. 

To  Mrs.  Wise  alone  did  she  confide  her  ambition. 
She  knew  she  was  perfectly  safe  in  so  doing,  as  that 
lady  always  assisted  her  on  Sundays,  and  would 
thus  come  in  for  a  much  larger  share  of  reflected 
glory  than  she  could  get  in  any  other  way. 

"  Fortunately,  I'm  on  the  Eeception  Committee," 
murmured  Mrs.  Wise. 

"  How  will  that  help  ? "  queried  her  friend. 

"  Don't  you  see  ?  We're  going  to  have  an  infor 
mal  reception  after  the  lecture,  and  you  can  trust 
me  to  see  that  you  are  presented  one  of  the  very 
first  —  ahead  of  Mrs.  Jones,  anyhow." 

"  So  you  can.  Now  do  it  like  an  angel,  and  I'll 
never  forget  it  to  you." 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  39 

"  Mrs.  Jones  is  quite  counting  on  him.  Says  she 
used  to  know  him  ;  had  luncheon  with  him  once  in 
Rome." 

"  Do  you  believe  her  ? " 

"  Well,  you  never  can  tell,"  answered  Mrs.  Wise, 
cautiously.  "  Anyhow,  trust  me  to  see  that  she 
doesn't  get  the  best  of  us  at  the  reception.  Oh, 
you're  going  to  Benediction !  Well,  I'll  go  right 
along,  too.  Dear  mer  it's  good  the  Whist  and  so 
many  other  things  are  off  for  Lent.  One  really 
should  do  something  for  one's  poor  little  soul." 

The  eventful  evening  of  the  Lion's  appearance 
under  the  patronage  of  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula 
had  come.  And  everybody  had  come.  The  hall 
was  packed  to  discomfort.  Extra  rows  of  chairs 
had  to  be  put  in,  until  there  was  scarcely  a  hand's 
breadth  between  the  stage  and  the  nearest  auditors. 

The  popular  prices  had  not  dismayed  "  the  lovely 
people "  of  Mrs.  Ray's  desire ;  and  Mrs.  Martin, 
surveying  the  hall  anxiously  from  the  wings,  was 
reassured  by  discerning  a  number  of  her  Protestant 
acquaintances,  and  four  Protestant  clergymen,  the 
latter  in  the  front  row. 

The  Reception  Committee,  all  in  pretty  demi- 
toilette,  awaited  the  Lion  in  the  little  reception-room 
to  the  rear  of  the  great  hall. 

"  You  might  have  knocked  me  over  with  a 
feather,"  whispered  Mrs.  Wise  to  Mrs.  Willow, 


40  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 

getting  a  firm  grip  of  her  the  moment  the  lecturer 
descended  from  the  stage,  for  the  little  reception. 

"  Who  should  walk  in  with  him  and  Miss  May, 
but  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ormond.  It  appears  they  all 
dined  together  at  Miss  May's." 

But  Mrs.  Willow  and  everyone  else  had  seen  the 
entrance  of  the  party,  for  they  had  to  be  admitted 
into  the  hall  by  the  private  door  near  the  stage, 
and  all  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula,  at  least,  knew 
the  significance  of  their  association. 

Miss  May  and  the  presiding  officer  had  taken  up 
their  station  beside  the  lecturer,  and  the  Auxiliary 
Bishop,  the  Vicar-General,  the  President  of  Loyola 
College,  the  Protestant  clergymen,  the  professors 
of  the  Seminary,  and  the  senior  class  of  Madame 
Grandin's  finishing  school,  were  being  conceded  the 
right  of  way,  to  offer  their  congratulations  to  the 
Lion. 

Mrs.  Wise,  who  was  slender  and  agile,  had  towed 
her  friend  into  a  good  position  right  behind  Madame 
Grandin's  seven  seniors.  But  behind  themselves 
pressed  a  serried  mass  of  people,  extending  straight 
to  the  entrance,  and  getting  steady  reinforcements 
from  the  galleries. 

"  Just  look  at  that,  will  you !  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Ormond  are  receiving  with  them  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Willow. 

"Yes,  and  he's  calling  Mr.  Ormond  'Fred.' 
You  never  can  tell  anything  about  these  literary 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  41 

and  artistic  people,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Wise.  "  Look  at 
Esther  Ward  now !  And  by  the  way,  I  see  her 
ahead  of  us,  with  Mrs.  Mint." 

They  did  not  know  that  Mrs.  Jones  was  close 
behind  them  with  her  husband.  Mr.  Willow  always 
fled  the  receptions,  and  was  now  having  a  cigar 
with  his  like-minded  brother-in-law  in  the  lower 
hall. 

Presently  Mrs.  Wise,  descrying  a  break  in  the 
ecclesiastical  group,  literally  pulled  in  her  friend 
and  presented  her. 

"  And  now,  dear  Mr.  Stoneford,"  laying  a  detain 
ing  hand  on  the  Lion's  coat-sleeve  (for  she  had  had 
quite  a  chat  with  him  in  the  parlor,  and  the  emer 
gency  excused  a  little  unconventionality),  "  Mrs. 
Willow  wants  a  word  with  you." 

"  Very  happy,  indeed,"  murmured  the  Lion. 

"  Won't  you  come  for  half  an  hour  to  us  on 
Sunday  afternoon,  my  Day,  you  know  ?  Mr.  Willow 
will  be  so  charmed." 

"  Quite  too  kind,  Mrs.  Willow.  I'm  to  have  lun 
cheon  on  Sunday  with  my  old  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Ormond.  I  have  no  engagement  in  the  late  after 
noon,  but" — 

"  Oh,  no  buts,  Mr.  Stoneford,"  urged  Mrs.  Willow 
and  Mrs.  Wise  together.  "  Do  say  you  will  come. 
We  are  on  East  Avenue,  just  next "  — 

There  were  unmistakable  signs  of  impatience  in 
the  people  right  behind,  and  Miss  May  looked  nerv 
ous. 


42  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

The  Lion  surrendered  at  discretion. 

"  I'll  come  in  about  four  o'clock,  Mrs.  Willow." 

"  Sure ! " 

"  On  my  word." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  so  much  ! " 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Willow,"  said  the  gallant  Lion. 

Mrs.  Jones  had  heard  it  all,  and  grasped  the  little 
plot.  But  she  gave  no  sign.  She  and  her  liege  lord 
were  the  next  presented,  and  she  took  advantage  of 
the  opportunity  only  to  say  quite  loud : 

"  How  splendidly  you  look.  Ah !  how  many 
things  have  happened  since  our  delightful  little 
luncheon  at  Albano,  three  years  ago  ! " 

"  Quite  so,"  said  the  Lion,  kindly  but  vaguely, 
endeavoring  to  recall  the  circumstance. 

Mrs.  Jones  was  fairly  dragged  out  of  the  throng 
by  her  impatient  husband,  and  the  real  work  of  the 
evening  began. 

The  line  was  thenceforth  blocked  every  minute 
and  a  half  by  some  one  endeavoring  to  make  an 
engagement  with-  the  Lion,  or  asking  him  to  eluci 
date  mysteries  remaining  in  his  lastest  novel ;  or 
if  they  were  going  to  be  explained  in  the  sequel ; 
or  how  he  first  thought  of  becoming  a  Catholic ;  or 
whether  he  would  prefer  to  live  in  Boston  or  New 
York ;  or  what  were  his  very  lowest  terms  for  a 
great  charity ;  or  if  "  Serena  "  were  founded  on  fact ; 
or  whether  it  was  really  true  that  he  had  a  little 
Irish  blood  in  his  veins,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  43 

He  was  a  very  amiable  Lion ;  and  he  made,  I 
fear,  some  reckless  promises  and  extraordinary 
explanations  that  night,  for  which  he  has  suffered, 
and  I  hope,  been  forgiven. 

It  was  the  "  lovely  people "  who  pushed  for  con 
versation,  and  laid  detaining  hands  upon  him. 

The  Hon.  Paul  Eollins,  late  United  States  Consul- 
General  to  Paris,  who  presided,  was  thinking  things 
behind  his  long  blonde  moustache  that  were  not 
benedictions. 

Miss  May  had  all  the  lace  ripped  right  off  her 
silk  skirt. 

Mrs.  Ormond  was  several  times  violently  jammed 
against  the  platform ;  and  in  the  rear  of  the  hall  it 
took  all  the  tact  of  seven  of  the  sweetest-tempered 
Daughters  of  St.  Paula,  reinforced  by  the  good- 
natured  officers  of  the  Aubrey  de  Vere  Circle,  who 
were  better  used  to  crowds,  to  prevent  several  hun 
dred  people  from  "  going  away  mad." 

Meantime  Mrs.  Willow  and  Mrs.  Wise,  their 
object  accomplished,  had  rejoined  their  waiting  hus 
bands,  and  were  soon  driving  home  in  great  peace 
and  content  as  to  their  own  achievement,  though 
in  much  wonder  about  the  Ormonds. 

"  So  he's  to  dine  with  them  Sunday,  and  they 
keep  only  one  maid  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Willow. 

"  I  guess  it's  true  that  Mr.  Ormond  is  beginning 
to  amount  to  something,  though,"  said  Mrs.  Wise. 

"  Don't  you  think  I'd  better  invite  the  Ormonds 
specially  for  Sunday  ?  " 


44  THE   WAY   OF   THE   WORLD 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed.    I  don't  see  how  you  can  help  it." 

The  Ormonds  and  their  old  friend,  the  Lion,  had 
just  finished  luncheon  and  adjourned  to  their  little 
drawing-room,  whose  windows  commanded  a  view 
of  the  street. 

Mrs.  Ormond's  eyes  grew  round  with  astonish 
ment  as  Mrs.  Jones'  carriage  drove  up  and  stopped 
at  her  door.  Mrs.  Jones  presently  descended,  and 
duly  announced,  entered  the  modest  apartment, 
greeting  the  Ormonds  with  effusion,  as  if  she  were 
a  household  intimate,  and  not  a  mere  acquaintance, 
crossing  their  threshold  for  the  first  time. 

"  And  dear  Mr.  Stoneford  !  What  a  success  the 
other  night !  All  the  world's  agog  over  it." 

Presently,  "  I  suppose  you  are  all  going  over  to 
Mrs.  Willow's  this  afternoon." 

"  We  cannot  go,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond,  quietly,  "  but 
Mr.  Stoneford,  I  believe  " — 

"  How  unfortunate !  But  again,  what  a  happy 
thought  that  I  called  just  this  day  ;  for  now  I  can 
drive  our  friend  over,  as  I  am  due  there  myself  this 
afternoon." 

"  Quite  too  kind,  Mrs.  Jones,"  said  the  lion,  ner 
vously,  "  but " — 

"  Oh  no,  indeed,  no  trouble  at  all,  such  a  pleasure  ; 
and  I  have  so  much  to  ask  you  about  our  friends  in 
Home." 

Mrs.  Ormond  knew  that  Mrs.  Jones  had  come 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  45 

far  out  of  her  way,  and  that  the  Willows  lived 
on  the  other  side  of  the  city,  at  least  five  miles 
from  the  suburb  of  her  own  residence.  But  she 
was  the  hostess,  and  her  experience  of  life  had 
taught  her  the  futility  of  opposing  the  will  of  a 
woman  of  Mrs.  Jones'  type. 

Indeed  in  a  very  few  moments  the  Lion,  reluc 
tantly  torn  from  the  cosy  fireside  of  his  friends,  was 
whirling  along  in  Mrs.  Jones'  carriage,  which  stopped 
before  long  at  her  own  door. 

"  We  must  get  Mr.  Jones,"  she  explained  sweetly, 
and  then  —  "better  come  in,  Mr.  Stoneford;  he 
won't  be  quite  ready,  I  fear,  and  I  couldn't  think 
of  your  waiting  in  the  carriage  even  a  moment, 
this  chilly  day." 

So  our  Lion  found  himself  in  Mrs.  Jones'  gor 
geous  drawing-room,  and  thence,  in  a  moment,  in 
her  equally  gorgeous  dining-room,  where  there  was 
no  escape  from  a  glass  of  champagne  and  a  cigar 
with  Mr.  Jones. 

Mrs.  Willow's  Day  had  never  drawn  so  many 
guests  before.  Between  ourselves,  she  had  written 
to  everyone  who  was  on  visiting  terms  with  her,  to 
be  sure  and  come. 

So  it  befell  that  all  the  members  of  the  Whist 
Club,  and  many  of  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula,  with 
their  complaisant  husbands,  brothers,  and  even,  in  a 
few  cases,  sons,  were  gathered  together. 


46  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

As  we  have  said,  Mrs.  Willow  was  fortunate  in 
her  Day,  as  her  own  men  were  at  home  for  the  Day 
of  Rest,  and  other  men,  even  of  a  less  social  type, 
could  plead  fewer  excuses  against  such  informal 
sociability  as  prevailed  at  her  house. 

The  hostess,  attended  by  Mrs.  Wise,  was  stationed 
near  the  drawing-room  door,  as  the  steady  stream 
of  arrivals  demanded.  But  the  Lion  came  not.  It 
was  after  five  o'clock.  What  could  have  happened  ? 

"  Ah,  dear  Mrs.  Willow  !  So  pleased  to  see  you ! 
I  have  brought  you  Mr.  Stoneford ;  we've  just  come 
from  the  house.  He  and  Mr.  Jones  have  been  renew 
ing  old  times  together,  for  a  few  moments ! " 

It  was  indeed  Mrs.  Jones,  convoying  the  captured 
Lion,  and  posing  before  the  whole  gathering  as  his 
old  and  intimate  friend,  to  whom  Mrs.  Willow  was 
doubtless  indebted  for  the  honor  of  his  presence  at 
this  moment. 

The  Lion  himself  was  bewildered.  Unprofession- 
ally,  he  was  as  little  up  to  the  ways  of  women  as 
any  other  masculine  creature,  but  he  vaguely  felt  a 
discomfort  in  the  air,  and  threw  an  extra  cordial 
ity  into  his  greeting  to  the  Willows  and  Mrs.  Wise. 
There  was  no  chance  to  explain,  amid  the  group 
that  promptly  surrounded  him,  nor  would  he  have 
known  just  what  to  explain,  in  any  event. 

Mrs.  Jones  relinquished  him  for  a  while,  to  dis 
port  herself  with  unwonted  suavity  among  the  other 
guests,  narrating  various  little  Ion-mots  of  the  Lion. 


AND   OTHEE   WAYS.  47 

She  never  took  her  eyes  off  him,  however,  and  when 
he  showed  signs  of  making  his  farewells,  she  and  Mr. 
Jones  were  beside  him,  and  finally  carried  him  off 
in  triumph  before  everybody's  eyes,  to  the  residence 
of  the  cousins  with  whom  he  was  to  pass  the  night. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  anything  like  the  effrontery  of 
that  woman  ?  "  demanded  Mrs.  Wise  of  Mrs.  Willow, 
when  all  the  guests  had  departed  except  a  couple 
of  old  familiars  who  were  in  the  library  with  the 
head  of  the  house. 

"  But  you  promised  me  she  wouldn't  get  the  best 
of  me,  standing  by  that  mantelpiece,"  said  Mrs. 
Willow,  reproachfully. 

"  What  more  could  I  do  ?  How  could  I  know  she 
was  going  to  serve  us  such  a  trick  ?  Where  in  the 
world  did  she  pick  up  with  him  ?  He  was  to  be 
at  Mrs.  Ormond's  to  luncheon,  and  she  doesn't  visit 
there." 

"  So  he  was  at  the  Ormond's." 

"  Then  how  in  the  world  did  Mrs.  Jones  get  hold 
of  him  to  have  him  at  her  house  ?  The  bold  thing ! 
I'd  give"  — 

"  But  you  promised  me,  standing  by  that  mantel 
piece  "  — 

Mrs.  Wise  did  not  go  home  till  she  had  soothed 
the  fretfulness  out  of  her  disappointed  friend.  Both 
ladies  united  in  denouncing  Mrs.  Jones,  and  made 
vague  plans  for  taking  her  down  a  peg  or  two  on 


48  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

some  future  occasion ;  but  both  of  them  knew  in 
their  hearts  that  they  would  have  to  swallow  their 
grievance  meekly.  Among  them  and  Mrs.  Jones 
existed,  as  a  consequence  of  past  intimacy,  that 
armed  neutrality  which  keeps  the  peace  among 
women  who  have  ceased  to  be  fond  of  one  another, 
but  who  have  the  acute  consciousness  of  being  in 
one  another's  power  through  imprudent  revelations 
of  their  own  or  other  people's  business. 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  49 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

ANOTHEK  DAY. 

LAST  but  not  least  of  the  factors  in  forming  a 
friendship  between  Esther  and  Mrs.  Kay  were  the 
children.  Esther  loved  children,  and  was  a  prime 
favorite  with  the  Ray  boys. 

She  drew  wonderful  animals  for  Gregory  on  the 
fly-leaves  of  his  private  'randum  books,  as  he  called 
them,  and  was  full  of  compassion  for  the  trials  and 
tribulations  of  the  stormy  school  life  of  a  normal, 
freckled  boy. 

She  delighted  the  gentle  and  rather  pious  Clement 
with  stories  of  Old  World  castles  and  sacred  shrines, 
and  sweet  legends  of  saints  and  martyrs. 

Even  the  shy  baby,  Athanasius,  shrinking  under 
the  shadow  of  his  great  name,  would  go  to  Esther 
when  he  wouldn't  go  to  his  own  aunts. 

"  You  had  lots  of  children  in  your  family  ?  "  said 
Mrs.  Ray  once,  tentatively. 

"  Only  one  brother  younger  than  myself,  but  too 
near  my  age  for  me  to  remember  him  a  baby,"  re 
sponded  Esther,  turning  her  clear,  direct  gaze  on  her 
hostess. 

On  this  especial  Wednesday,  Gregory,  having  come 


50  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

home  from  school,  and  duly  refreshed  the  inner 
boy  downstairs,  reconnoitred  about  the  door  of  the 
rear  drawing-room  until  he  spied  Esther  on  a  divan 
in  a  corner  with  Madame  Vargous.  The  latter  was 
unfolding  to  her  amiable,  if  not  enthralled,  listener 
the  glories  of  society  in  Washington  in  the  days 
when  Mrs.  Harriet  Lane  Johnston  was  the  acknowl 
edged  leader. 

The  advance  of  a  kindly  old  French  Father  from 
St.  Loyola's,  to  whose  good  works  Madame  Vargous 
had  been  a  generous  benefactor  in  her  golden  prime, 
and  who  showed  her  the  consideration  so  dear  to 
her  heart,  in  her  failing  days,  whenever  occasion 
offered,  left  Esther  free  to  respond  to  the  nods 
and  becks  —  truth  forces  me  to  substitute  frantic 
grimaces  for  the  poet's  wreathed  smiles  —  of  the 
ingenuous  Gregory. 

They  stole  unnoticed  past  the  open  doors  of  the 
front  drawing-room,  up  the  broad  staircase  and 
through  the  wide  corridors,  to  the  sunny,  spacious 
nursery  at  the  rear  of  the  second  floor. 

"Say,  Miss  Esther,"  said  Gregory,  "wasn't  you 
glad  to  get  out  ?  Oh,  I  wouldn't  be  found  dead  in 
anybody's  Day." 

"  Hush ! "  whispered  Esther,  knocking  softly  at 
the  nursery  door;  "  perhaps  the  baby  is  asleep." 

But  the  baby  was  broad  awake,  and  with  his  thin 
little  arms  at  once  outstretched  to  this  welcome 
guest,  that  he  might  nestle  in  that  coign  of  vantage, 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  51 

whence  he  might  pull  her  locket  and  her  loose  front 
hair,  and  otherwise  disport  himself,  as  do  all  well- 
regulated  babies  of  inquiring  minds,  when  at  ease 
with  their  friends. 

Athanasius,  named  like  his  brothers  for  the  saint 
of  his  birthday,  was  "  Nate "  to  the  boys  in  the 
presence  of  their  father,  but  "  the  Kid  "  on  all  occa 
sions  of  less  formality. 

He  thrived  but  slowly,  in  comparison  with  his 
predecessors  in  the  cradle,  but  made  up  for  his  small 
and  delicate  proportions  by  marvelous  feats  of  agility, 
which  made  Gregory  proudly  declare  him  a  "hull 
team,"  and  "  most  as  good  as  a  circus." 

Even  the  studious  Clement,  who  questioned  if  a 
very  obvious  interest  in  the  antics  of  a  baby  were 
not  beneath  the  dignity  of  his  twelve  years,  could 
not  resist  the  preparations  for  displaying  the  Kid  in 
the  great  act  of  catching  his  ball  with  his  feet. 

But  meantime  Gregory  was  pouring  forth  his  joys 
and  sorrows  into  the  sympathetic  ears  of  Esther. 

"  Oh,  say,  Miss  Esther,  call  me  Greg,  same  as  the 
fellows  do : 

'  Greg,  Greg,  with  the  wooden  leg, 
Let  us  take  him  down  a  peg. ' 

That's  what  they  call  out  after  me  when  we're  going 
home,"  with  proud  consciousness  of  having  thus 
early  in  life  lent  inspiration  to  the  gentle  art  of 
rhyme. 

"  It's  because  the  man  comes  after  us  with  the 


52  THE   WAY   OF   THE   WORLD 

carriage,  Miss  Esther,  and  I  s'pose  it's  nothing  but 
jealousy,"  said  Clement,  who  was,  I  grieve  to  say,  a 
bit  of  a  snob,  as  nice,  quiet  boys  sometimes  are. 

"  Then  you  must  disarm  them,  Clement,  by  being 
more  friendly  at  recess  and  luncheon." 

"  Oh,  but  so  few  of  them  are  of  our  "  — 

At  this  point  the  nurse  had  opened  the  big  Morris 
chair  in  the  center  of  the  room,  dropped  Athanasius 
into  it,  and  handing  Esther  his  red-white-and-blue 
ball  on  its  long  ribbon,  effectually  diverted  the  con 
versation  from  the  social  distinctions  among  the  boys 
at  Professor  Drummond's  Preparatory  School. 

The  baby,  with  alert  eyes  and  tightly  compressed 
lips,  watched  the  dangling  ball,  and  stretched  hands 
or  feet  indifferently  for  it,  as  it  veered  now  in  the 
direction  of  these  or  those  equally  tenacious  members. 

When  he  caught  it,  as  he  did  twice  out  of  three 
times  with  his  feet  —  which  had  not  yet  been  tram 
meled  by  shoes  —  and  held  it  up  firmly  clasped 
between  the  soles  thereof  for  a  moment,  the  boys 
fairly  howled  their  applause,  and  the  young  acrobat 
himself,  relaxing  the  dignity  of  his  countenance  a 
little,  displayed  his  four  new  teeth  in  a  condescend 
ing  smile,  and  beat  a  tattoo  with  his  heels  on  the 
leather  cushions. 

Tired  of  the  ball  game,  he  obligingly  put  his  toes 
in  his  mouth,  and  eventually  each  of  his  tough  little 
heels  in  turn. 

The  boys  suggested  to  Esther  that  it  would  be 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  53 

fine  to  have  his  picture  taken  with  his  heel  in  his 
mouth. 

The  artist  saw  aesthetic  objections  to  this  especial 
pose,  however,  which  she  endeavored  to  simplify  to 
the  boys. 

It  was  a  lovely  late  afternoon  in  May.  The  even 
ing  breeze  was  swaying  the  long  muslin  curtains  at 
the  half-open  windows,  through  which  stole  the  fra 
grance  of  the  pear  and  cherry  blossoms  in  the  back 
garden. 

"  He  could  pick  up  your  watch-chain  with  his 
toes,"  suggested  Gregory,  reluctant  to  give  up  the 
thought  of  perpetuating  the  Kid  in  art  as  a  pre 
cocious  athlete. 

Here  the  interesting  infant,  rinding  conversation 
about  him,  however  flattering,  no  adequate  substitute 
for  direct  personal  homage,  spoke  his  mind  vigorously 
in  his  own  language. 

Esther  seized  him  and  swung  him  to  her  shoulder; 
Gregory  whistled  his  favorite  melody,  "  A  Hot  Time 
in  the  Old  Town  Tonight,"  and  with  his  nimble  toes 
elevating  Esther's  gold  chain,  and  one  hand  twined 
in  her  thick  brown  hair,  and  Clement  singing  to  his 
brother's  whistle,  the  baby  was  having  the  best  of 
good  times  when  the  door  opened  and  the  merry 
little  group  found  themselves  confronted  with  Mrs. 
Eay  and  her  guests,  Bertrand  Coleman  and  his  sister 
and  Mrs.  Jones. 

"  We  knew  where  to  find  you,"  said  Mrs.  Eay. 


54  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

There  was  laughter  all  round;  the  nurse  came 
forward  promptly  to  relieve  Esther,^ Imt  the  baby 
screamed  and  clung  to  his  favorite,  ana,  was  disen 
gaged  with  difficulty. 

Esther  with  flushed  cheeks  and  towsled  hair  and 
dancing  eyes  mustered  what  gravity  she  could  (with 
Gregory's  scowl  at  the  interruption  in  sight)  for  Mr. 
Coleman's  presentation  to  her ;  and  retreated  as 
speedily  as  possible  to  make  herself  tidy  for  the 
informal  dinner,  for  which  they  were  all  hospitably 
bidden. 

She  already  had  a  slight  acquaintance  with  Miss 
Coleman,  but  this  was  her  first  meetntg  wi|h  the 
brother;  and  she  laughed  a  little  as  si 
her  hair,  at  the  rather  absurd  predicament^ 
she  had  been  caught. 

The  color  was  not  all  gone  from  her  c] 
the  laughter  from  her  eyes  when  she 
company  in  the  dining-room ;  and  Bertrand  'C6*lei 
who  liked  bright  new  faces,  was  glad  to 
for  his  vis-a-vis.  | 

The  conversation  never  languished  where  kg 
a  guest,  as  he  was  up  in  all  the  events  of  the  day, 
and  had  an  inexhaustible  store  of  incident  and 
anecdote ;  and  he  noted  with  approval  that  Esther 
listened  intently  and  intelligently. 

He  was  used  to  having  women  listen  to  him,  but 
they  often  missed  the  point,  and  asked  incredibly 
stupid  explanations. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  55 

And  even  :beauty  could  not  atone  to  Mr.  Coleman 
for  stupidity. 

Moreover,  there  was  a  something  in  the  eyes 
which  mgt  his  so  straightforwardly  when  he  ad 
dressed  $  rehiark  to  their  owner,  which  attracted 
him  ple|Sanj£y,  but  not  sentimentally. 

It  wajs  n$t  the  woman's  homage  to  the  man 
(much  £s  he-was  sought  after  by  women,  he  had  the 
good  s&nse  -to  see  this),  it  was  the  artist's  appre 
ciation?  of  a  subject ;  for  Bertrand  Coleman  was  a 
splenold  and  distinguished  type  of  manhood. 

Faiily  tall,  well-built,  of  erect,  soldierly  bearing, 
free  91"  superfluous  flesh,  clear-cut  in  feature,  swarthy 
as  a  Spaniard,  with  deep-set,  dark  gray  eyes  —  "  the 
kind?4hat  must  shine  in  the  dark,"  as  the  Eay  boys 
sai(L—  abundant,  soft  black  hair,  without  a  tinge  of 
gray,  foil  all  of  his  forty-five  years,  he  was  a  man 
thit  the*  most  unobservant  would  have  to  look  at 
twice,  and  that  artists  would  long  to  paint,  some  for 
a»Lanpelot,  others  for  a  Godfrey  de  Bouillon. 

t      ' 

[e's  nice,  isn't  he  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Eay  of  Esther, 

as  ^ne  took  her  by-and-by  to  her  own  room,  to  put 
on  her  hat  and  gloves. 

"  Nice  !  "  exclaimed  Esther.  "  He's  magnificent. 
He's  about  the  height  and  build  of  my  older  brother, 
and  dark  like  him,  but,  oh,  incomparably  better- 
looking.  He's  quite  the  handsomest  brunette  man 
I  ever  saw,  and  clever,  too.  I  hope  I  shall  meet 
him  again." 


56  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

"  Do  you  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Ray  slowly,  while  her  eyes 
snapped  and  her  ears  quivered ;  "  and  you'll  always 
remember  that  you  met  him  first  here,  won't  you  ? " 

But  Esther  was  so  absorbed  in  an  artistic  adjust 
ment  of  the  breast-knot  of  violets  which  little 
Gregory  had  plucked  for  her,  that  Mrs.  Ray's  words 
passed  unheard. 

Bertrand  Coleman  and  his  sister  walked  home 
with  Esther  across  the  park  that  evening. 

Mrs.  Jones  remarked  when  she  got  home,  to  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Wise,  whom  she  found  visiting  with  her 
husband,  that  Miss  Ward  was  the  greatest  poser  she 
had  ever  known ;  and  that  for  her  part,  she  thought 
it  in  questionable  taste  for  unmarried  women  to  make 
such  a  fuss  over  babies,  anyhow. 

I  said,  a  little  earlier  in  these  chronicles  of  our 
set,  that  I  wished  Esther  Ward  had  never  painted 
Bertrand  Coleman's  portrait. 

But  really,  she  might  have  painted  him  ten  times, 
and  exhibited  his  picture  as  her  masterpiece  at 
Bellini  &  Leverett's,  or  anywhere  else,  if  only  a  few 
people  of  ordinary  communicativeness  had  known 
about  that  other  portrait,  so  jealously  veiled  and 
guarded. 

Look  at  her  now  for  a  moment  in  the  quiet  of 
her  studio,  sketching  her  reminiscences  of  the  even 
ing  on  a  bit  of  Bristol  board. 

She  has  outlined  Bertrand  Coleman  as  a  mediaeval 
knight  in  armor,  but  with  equal  interest  she  has 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  57 

sketched  Baby  Nate,  with  his  eyes  uplifted  and  his 
legs  and  arms  in  air,  only  she  has  curved  and 
dimpled  these  attenuated  members  beyond  recogni 
tion.  Gregory's  honest  face  is  there  in  a  full  round, 
and  Clement's  delicate  profile  ;  nor  does  she  lay  her 
pencil  down  till  Mrs.  Eay,  who  is  of  a  chubby, 
flaxen-haired,  wax-doll-faced  prettiness,  contributes 
to  the  group  another  round  face,  whose  eyes  and 
mouth  are  notes  of  interrogation. 

I  wish  Esther  had  had  a  confidante  other  than  her 
brush  or  pen.  She  might  have  trusted  Mrs.  Ormond 
or  Euth  May,  with  whom  she  was  drifting  into  a 
very  congenial  acquaintanceship.  She  might  as 
safely  and  more  easily  have  dropped  a  few  words 
to  Jack  Holmwood,  whom  she  had  known  for  ten 
years. 

You  would  think  that  a  woman  who  had  so  much 
to  say  of  her  thoughts  and  feelings  on  impersonal 
matters,  would  some  day  or  other  reveal  a  little  of 
her  own  life,  her  heart's  hopes,  fears  and  desires ; 
but  just  as  soon  as  she  lowered  her  voice,  and  said, 
"this  is  between  ourselves  for  the  present,"  your 
attention  was  rewarded  by  the  highly  important 
information  that  she  was  going  to  put  a  stained-glass 
window  in  her  little  dining-room,  the  outlook  being 
so  ugly,  or  some  other  triviality  that  you  would  have 
seen  for  yourself  in  a  day  or  two. 

For  Esther  was  a  home-loving  creature,  and 
"  played  house  "  in  the  little  suite  behind  her  studio, 


58  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

with  a  middle-aged  widow  to  minister  to  her 
modest  wants. 

If  this  widow  had  been  as  communicative  as  she 
was  observant,  she  could  have  turned  the  course  of 
events  by  improving  the  shining  hour  when  Mrs. 
Willow's  maid  came,  as  she  often  did,  with  notes 
for  Miss  Ward,  in  that  lady's  absence. 

Even  Father  Herman  had  said  more  than  once  to 
Esther :  "  My  child,  you  are  attempting  a  role  for 
which  few  men  and  no  women  are  fitted:  to  live 
without  sympathy." 

But  Esther  only  smiled  to  herself,  thinking  of  the 
day  when  she  could  tell  him  that  she  was  quite  as 
much  of  a  human  being  as  any  of  the  multitude 
who  sought  comfort  and  counsel  from  his  fatherly 
heart  and  varied  experience. 

"Why  should  I  waste  his  precious  time  in  dis 
cussing  what  I  would  like  to  do,  when  I  know  what 
I've  got  to  do  ? "  was  her  eminently  practical-sound 
ing  reflection  ;  though  I  am  free  to  say  that  Esther's 
code  as  to  duty  and  obligation,  badly  needed  re 
vision. 

Then  Esther  had  been  all  her  life  the  confidante 
of  less  self-sufficing  women.  She  was  responsive  in 
sympathy  —  which  had  a  large  artistic  element 
in  it  —  if  not  in  confidence  ;  and  the  result  of  her 
vicarious  tears,  blushes  and  shudders,  was  to  inten 
sify  her  personal  reserve. 

"  Why,  oh  why,  should  a  woman  feel  obliged  to 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  59 

carry  a  dead  or  an  estranged  lover  in  her  pocket 
to  justify  her  single  state  or  her  unhappy  marriage 
in  the  eyes  of  people  who  are  not  losing  sleep  about 
either?"  was  a  conundrum  for  Esther  which  she 
never  had  been  able  to  solve. 


60  THE   WAY   OF  THE    WORLD 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BERTRAND   COLEMAN'S   SISTER. 

"THAT'S  a  thoroughly  sensible  woman,"  said 
Bertrand  Coleman  to  his  sister,  as  they  reverted 
next  day  at  luncheon  to  the  incidents  of  the  pre 
vious  evening. 

Miss  Coleman  was  cutting  him  a  generous  portion 
of  his  favorite  strawberry  shortcake.  Her  move 
ments  were  prim,  gentle  and  deliberate,  like  her 
voice. 

"  She  seems  to  be,"  she  said,  looking  up  brightly, 
not  as  if  possessed  by  a  sinister  doubt,  but  merely  as 
if  the  case  awaited  her  prepossessed  investigation. 
It  was  this  blending  of  amiability  and  caution  in 
his  sister's  expressed  opinions  on  people,  which 
made  Bertrand  Coleman  think  so  highly  of  her 
judgment. 

"  You  ought  to  have  her  over  to  luncheon  some 
day,"  he  continued. 

"  I  should  love  to  —  after  she  has  returned  my 
call,"  responded  Miss  Coleman,  sweetly. 

It  was  twelve  years  since  Bertrand  Coleman  had 
laid  in  the  grave  the  beautiful  girl  with  whom  he 
had  had  nearly  two  years  of  a  happiness  which 
seldom  falls  to  the  lot  of  mortals. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  61 

When  the  coffin  closed  on  her  and  their  baby 
boy,  he  prayed  only  that  he  might  follow  them 
speedily. 

Though,  as  is  the  world's  wont,  many  eligible 
matches  were  made  for  him  while  as  yet  his  wife's 
fair  body  lay  in  flower-girt,  taper-lit  splendor  be 
neath  his  roof,  by  the  kind  friends  who  had  come  to 
tender  him  their  sympathy ;  and  a  maximum  of  two 
years  was  allowed  him  for  decent  mourning,  ere 
taking  another  mate,  he  had  surprised  and  puzzled 
his  friends  and  annoyed  the  prophets  by  remaining 
thus  far  not  only  unwed,  but  apparently  heart-whole 
and  fancy-free. 

It  was  felt  (and  rather  resented  to  her)  that  his 
sister  was  largely  responsible  for  this  state  of 
affairs. 

In  the  first  place,  she  ordered  his  house  to  the 
point  of  perfection.  Then  she  made  much  of  his 
friends.  He  was  exceedingly  hospitable,  and  as 
thoughtless  as  the  majority  of  his  sex ;  but  whether 
he  brought  home  one  or  seven,  she  was  always  in  a 
state  of  preparedness  as  to  the  larder,  and  of  imper 
turbable  good  humor,  personally. 

Creature  comforts,  convenience,  accustomedness 
are  more  to  a  man  as  he  draws  near  to  the  harvest 
moon  of  life,  and  if,  as  now  and  then  happened, 
Bertrand  Coleman  began  to  feel  a  little  interest  in 
one  or  other  of  the  pretty  widows  or  maidens  whom 
he  met  in  such  numbers,  he  found  himself  specu- 


62  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

lating  as  to  how  her  housekeeping  would  compare 
with  Jane's. 

Then  Jane  had  no  quarrel  with  any  of  his  men 
friends ;  and  he  had  known  sundry  old  bachelors  and 
widowers  whose  chums  had  been  promptly  inter 
dicted  the  house  in  the  sixth  month  of  the  reign  of 
the  new  queen. 

Furthermore,  Jane  was  nice  to  his  women  friends. 
Indeed,  she  had  a  legion  of  women  friends  of  her 
own.  They  rarely  sat  down  to  luncheon  without 
some  fair  lady  between  them ;  nor  went  to  the 
theatre  nor  on  a  few  days'  vacation  trip  without  an 
equally  pleasant  companion,  into  whose  home,  also, 
they  might  adventure  once  or  twice.  Yet  strangely 
enough,  hardly  had  Bertrand  Coleman  begun  to 
feel  an  interest  in  the  aforesaid  fair  lady  than  she 
faded  away,  so  to  speak,  before  the  coming  of  a  fairer 
or  a  cleverer,  till  he  was  fain  to  think  that  his 
sister's  women  friends  were  like  the  Sultan's  forty 
wives:  each  more  beautiful  than  the  other. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  his  sister  rewarded  his  ex 
pressed  preference  for  the  society  of  some  woman 
friend  by  such  an  abundance  of  it  that  he  was 
fain  to  wish  the  latter  never  had  been  born. 

His  devotion  to  his  wife's  memory  was  very  true 
and  tender;  though,  as  the  years  went  by,  she 
naturally  became  etherealized  to  him,  like  the 
sainted  maiden  Beatrice  of  the  poet's  dream  of 
Heaven;  only  that  the  babe  in  her  arms  suggested 
rather  a  meek  and  lowly  sister  of  the  Madonna. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  63 

Jane  shared  his  devotion  to  his  wife's  memory  to 
a  degree  which  touched  him  greatly,  but  puzzled  him 
as  well.  For  in  Marcella's  lifetime,  as  he  remem 
bered,  they  had  not  seemed  to  get  on  together.  It 
was  doubtless  his  sister's  desire  to  make  generous 
reparation,  which  kept  her  so  observant  of  their 
anniversaries,  and  led  her  to  make  Marcella  the 
standard  for  all  possible  aspirants  to  her  vacant 
place. 

He  kept  a  fairly  high  ideal  of  women  withal, 
only  he  marveled  that  out  of  all  this  bright  array, 
that  were  so  delightful  as  friends  or  acquaintances, 
there  should  be  so  few  whom  a  prudent  man  would 
seek  in  marriage. 

He  felt  he  had  grown  very  wise  as  to  feminine 
foibles,  family  disadvantages,  etc.  Not  that  his 
sister  was  ever  unkindly  critical  of  friends  or  guests. 
Some  things,  to  be  sure,  she  noted,  but  rather  in 
sorrow  than  in  anger;  and  twice,  at  least,  when  cer 
tain  mercenary  families  were  endeavoring  to  entrap 
him,  she  had  saved  his  happiness  from  shipwreck. 

Do  not  think  for  a  moment,  dear  reader,  that 
Miss  Coleman  did  not  wish  her  brother  to  marry. 
The  trouble  was,  as  she  often  said,  that  she  couldn't 
get  him  off  her  hands. 

She  did  indeed  wish  him  to  have  a  wife  who 
should  be  worthy  of  him  and  of  his  position.  Miss 
Coleman  must  not  be  blamed  if  she  felt  it  would 
not  be  easy  to  find  such  a  woman.  She  would  have 
been  less  than  a  true  sister  if  she  had  felt  differently. 


64  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

Bertrand  Coleman's  wife  should  be  a  woman  of 
irreproachable  family,  of  perfect  health,  of  suitable 
age,  of  grace  and  style  rather  than  beauty —  for  was 
he  not  handsome  enough  for  both  ?  —  of  ripe  cul 
ture,  social  experience  and  travel;  of  a  beautiful  dis 
position,  a  devout  Catholic,  a  New  England  American, 
and  last  but  not  least,  a  perfect  housekeeper. 

To  such  a  woman  —  there  were  a  few  such,  she 
knew  —  she  would  cheerfully  resign  her  brother. 
Meantime  she  would  do  her  part  to  keep  him  for 
that  "  not  impossible  she,"  though  the  best  years  of 
her  life  were  sacrificed  to  her  sisterly  devotion. 

Indeed,  she  was  not  beyond  marrying  herself  some 
day,  when  her  duty  to  her  brother  should  have  been 
fulfilled. 

She  had  some  means  of  her  own.  She  was  trim, 
neat-featured  and  tidy.  It  is  less  than  her  due  to 
say  that  she  was  marvelously  intelligent  and  tactful. 
She  managed  her  brother's  house,  and  her  brother ; 
she  could  have  managed  an  army.  Major  Me  Alpine 
would  have  surrendered  at  discretion  to  this  very 
capable  woman  who  looked  on  him  with  much  favor 
—  but  for  an  awful  fear  that  she  would  manage 
him. 

Whether  since  he  could  not  strengthen  his  will 
to  avoid  her  charms,  he  eventually  did  not  fall  a 
victim  to  them,  I  may  be  obliged  at  a  later  point  in 
this  narrative  to  declare. 

At  its  present  stage,  however,  I  can  safely  say 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  65 

that  a  proposal  from  the  Major  would  have  materi 
ally  altered  Jane  Coleman's  view  of  her  duty  to  her 
brother.  As  things  were,  however,  it  was  still  her 
manifest  destiny  to  protect  the  latter  from  design 
ing  women ;  and  she  had  need  of  Esther,  of  whom, 
moreover,  she  felt  no  fear. 

The  Colemans  always  closed  their  house  the  last 
week  in  June,  nor  reopened  it  till  the  last  week  in 
September. 

Sometimes  the  head  of  the  house  took  his  sum 
mer  holiday  in  Europe.  Oftener,  he  divided  the 
summer  between  some  quiet  New  England  beach 
and  the  mountains ;  seldom  going  two  summers  in 
succession  to  the  same  spot. 

Wherever  he  went,  Jane  went  with  him.  She 
was  so  unobtrusive  and  unexacting  that  she  nowise 
interrupted  his  solitude ;  and  so  useful  that  he 
would  have  felt  lost  if  she  were  not  within  call. 

In  this  way  she  had  seen,  within  the  decade 
before  our  story  opens,  a  good  deal  of  this  interest 
ing  and  aggravating  world ;  and  she  made  it  her 
business  to  observe  and  remember  the  things  which 
her  brother  was  morally  certain  to  overlook  or  for 
get.  Yet,  as  Jane  was  a  relatively  mature  woman, 
with  her  mind  made  up  on  most  subjects  when 
she  came  to  her  brother,  travel  did  not  materially 
modify  her  views,  especially  on  things  social. 

For  example,  she  took  the  social  lines  of  Mrs. 
Eay,  Mrs.  Willow,  and  even  Mrs.  Jones,  rather 


66  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

seriously ;  whereas  her  brother  was  wont  to  regard 
them  with  gentle  cynicism  ;  and  Esther  Ward  was 
notable  in  her  sight  less  for  her  artistic  achievement 
than  for  our  set's  recognition  of  her. 

Jane,  however,  was  not  especially  fluent  of  speech ; 
seldom  expressed  an  opinion,  except  on  demand, 
and  even  then,  so  balanced  and  qualified  it,  that 
you  really  were  never  quite  sure  what  she  thought 
on  any  matter. 

On  one  subject,  however,  her  conviction  was 
profound  and  unchangeable.  She  believed,  as  the 
average  woman  always  does  about  the  man  or  men 
of  her  family,  that  her  brother  was  far  more  easily 
imposed  upon,  far  less  able  to  protect  his  own 
interests,  than  any  other  man  who  walks  the  earth. 

Wise,  however,  beyond  the  most  of  women,  she 
never  betrayed  this  conviction  to  the  subject  of  it, 
but  contented  herself  with  —  invisibly  and  inaudi- 
bly  —  closing  up  now  this  by-path  and  opening 
that;  removing,  anon,  a  possible  stumbling-block  or 
erecting  a  necessary  barrier,  much  as  a  fond  mother 
might  in  dealing  with  a  child  on  whom  reasoning 
would  have  been  wasted. 

Esther  returned  her  over-due  call  on  Miss  Cole- 
man  the  week  before  the  house  was  closed  for  the 
summer.  Mr.  Coleman,  recognizing  the  former's 
voice,  strolled  into  the  drawing-room.  It  was  a  com 
paratively  leisure  day  for  him,  and  he  was  not 
averse  to  linger. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  67 

Esther  had  been  telling  Miss  Coleman  that  she 
could  not  get  away  till  well  on  in  July,  but  would 
have  the  whole  month  of  August  in  the  Adiron- 
dacks.  She  knew  the  region  well  —  Lake  Placid, 
Saranac,  Lake  Champlain,  etc.  The  Eays  and  the 
Willows  would  be  there  through  August  and  Sep 
tember  ;  the  Ormonds,  too,  but  at  another  hotel. 

No;  she  wouldn't  be  at  the  Chouteau  House. 
That  was  quite  beyond  her.  There  was  a  nice  little 
cottage  not  far  from  it,  where  she  had  lodged  on 
previous  vacations.  She  was  enthusiastic  on  the 
sunrises  and  sunsets,  the  walk,  the  drives,  the  row 
ing,  the  history  and  the  legends  of  the  region. 

"  Jane,  why  shouldn't  we  go  up  for  the  month  of 
August  ?  We'll  be  tired  of  New  London  by  that 
time,"  said  Bertrand  Coleman,  with  his  ready  kin 
dling  of  interest. 

"  Of  course,  Bertrand,  if  you  wish  it,"  responded 
Jane,  in  her  early  strawberry  voice,  wherein  sweet 
ness  was  tempered  by  a  wholesome  acidity  ;  "  but,  as 
we  were  there  last  year  "  — 

"  Yes,  but  we  stayed  only  a  fortnight." 

Jane  said  no  more ;  and  it  being  her  brother's 
way  to  do  quickly  whatever  he  did  at  all,  she  was 
not  surprised  to  see  him  at  his  desk  directly  after 
Esther's  departure,  engaging  rooms  at  the  Chouteau 
for  the  month  of  August. 


68  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ONE   AUGUST   IN   THE   MOUNTAINS. 

WHAT  a  delightful  August  that  was  !  Cool  dur 
ing  the  protracted  hot  wave,  when  the  rest  of  the 
country  was  sweltering  at  one  hundred  degrees  in 
the  shade ;  with  woodland  walks  for  noontide,  and 
easy  ascents  to  high  places,  whence  you  could  see 
Lake  Champlain,  a  sheet  of  molten  gold,  under  the 
westering  sun,  with  opalescent  mists  about  the  re 
motest  mountains  —  the  place  of  their  sojourn  was 
a  veritable  Eden. 

Jane  was  glad  to  see  so  many  familiar  faces  at 
the  Chouteau,  and  her  brother  was  glad  to  see  these 
diversified  by  interesting  people  from  the  South  and 
West,  and  the  English  and  Irish  tourists  who  now 
begin  to  return  our  summer  visiting  in  Europe 
with  summer  tours  in  our  Northern  States  and 
Canada. 

Esther  was  being  constantly  lured  from  her  cot 
tage  by  one  or  other  of  her  friends  from  home  ;  but 
as  none  so  sedulously  included  her  in  all  their  plans 
as  the  Colemans,  it  fell  out  that  day  by  day  a  larger 
portion  of  her  time  was  spent  in  their  society. 

This  fact  naturally  could  not  escape  the  notice 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  69 

and  comment  of  the  ladies  at  the  Chouteau;  our 
set,  through  the  recent  arrival  of  the  Joneses,  Mar 
tins  and  Macduffs  —  Mrs.  Mint  stayed  at  the  Hotel 
Champlain  that  summer  —  having  now  what  might 
be  called  a  quorum,  and  unlimited  time  for  settling 
the  destinies  of  the  unsettled,  which  in  their  vocabu 
lary  meant  the  unwedded. 

Mr.  and  Miss  Coleman  and  Miss  Ward,  starting 
off  for  a  long  drive  together,  or  together  on  the 
morning  train  or  boat  for  an  all-day  excursion,  or 
pacing  for  an  hour  at  a  time  on  the  pebbly  beach, 
were  now  a  familiar  sight.  Almost  equally  common 
was  it  to  see  Mr.  Coleman  and  Miss  Ward  tete-a-tete 
in  some  quiet  corner  of  the  hotel  veranda  or  the 
latter's  cottage  porch,  deeply  engrossed  in  conversa 
tion  ;  while  Jane,  in  sight,  but  the  width  of  the  house 
distant,  learned  a  new  crochet  stitch  from  some 
chance  acquaintance,  or  talked  home  gossip  with 
Mrs.  Eay  or  Mrs.  Willow. 

What  did  it  mean  ?  What  could  two  adults  of 
opposite  sexes  possibly  find  to  talk  about  for  hours 
together,  if  it  were  true  that  there  was  nothing  in 
it,  as  Miss  Coleman  asseverated  ? 

If  you  had  told  any  of  the  ladies  of  our  set  that 
these  two  faces  brightened  or  clouded  over  such 
extraneous  matters  as  the  latest  work  on  socialism, 
or  the  respective  merits  of  Whittier  and  Lowell,  or 
a  comparison  of  impressions  of  bygone  visits  to  the 
Vatican  Museum  or  the  art  galleries  of  Florence 


70  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

and  Venice,  they  would  have  asked  you  indignantly : 
What  did  you  take  them  for  ? 

The  fast-growing  friendship  between  Esther  and 
the  Colemans  was  much  resented  by  the  Ray  boys, 
particularly  by  Gregory.  He  spoke  his  mind  in  his 
mother's  presence. 

"  Miss  Esther  has  other  fish  to  fry  these  days," 
said  that  lady. 

Whereupon  Gregory  sought  his  favorite  eagerly, 
and  asked  her  if  she  liked  fishing. 

"  It's  all  right,  mother,"  he  said  later,  "  Esther  is 
going  fishing  with  me  and  Clement  all  day  tomorrow. 
I  don't  think  she  cares  so  very  much  about  those 
Colemans.  It's  them  that's  after  her  —  confound 
'em." 

"  Why,  Gregory !  you  mustn't  say  such  things. 
Eun  off  now,  and  play  with  your  brother.  What  is 
the  boy  driving  at  ? "  she  said,  half  to  herself  and 
half  to  the  ladies  who  were  bearing  her  company  on 
the  veranda. 

"  If  Gregory  were  a  man,  Miss  Ward  would  have 
at  least  one  lover,"  said  Mrs.  Willow,  laughing. 

Mrs.  Eay  stiffened  a  little. 

"I  hope  my  sons  will  all  marry  in  their  own 
condition  of  life.  Of  course  Miss  Ward  is  not  like 
other  women  who  earn  their  living,  but  still "  — 

The  ladies'  attention  was  diverted  for  a  moment 
by  Gregory,  who,  standing  on  one  leg,  and  with  eyes 
upturned  to  a  third-story  window  at  which  he  could 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  71 

descry  the  chubby  but  mournful  countenance  of 
Stephen,  Mrs.  Willow's  youngest  hope,  in  durance 
vile  for  some  boyish  transgression,  was  chanting  on 
high  G  this  recitative  : 

"Stevie,  Stevie  Stout! 
Stuck  in  the  mud  and  couldn't  get  out, 
One  leg  in  and  one  leg  out, 
Ki-yi!  Stevie  Stout !" 

With  another  ear-piercing  "  Ki-yi !  "  Gregory  was 
off  and  out  of  sight  like  a  flash ;  for  he  felt  his 
mother's  eyes  on  him,  and  wished  to  be  able  to  say 
truly  that  he  had  not  heard  her  call  him  in. 

"  I  wish  dear  Miss  Ward  were  really  and  truly 
one  of  us,"  sighed  Mrs.  Wise,  presently.  She  was 
up  for  a  fortnight  as  Mrs.  Willow's  guest.  Mr. 
Wise  was  taking  his  annual  vacation  with  his 
relatives  in  New  Hampshire. 

"  It  looks  a  little  as  if  she  might  be,  by-and-by," 
said  Mrs.  Willow,  nodding  towards  the  broad  path 
along  which  Esther  and  Bertrand  Coleman  were 
sauntering. 

"  Nonsense ! "  snapped  Mrs.  Jones. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Willow, 
answering  to  Mrs.  Jones'  thought  rather  than  her 
speech.  "  There  wouldn't  be  anything  out  of  the 
way  about  it.  My  brother  says  she  could  make  her 
self  at  home  in  any  position,  even  in  a  royal  court." 

"  I  think  he  likes  her,"  conceded  Mrs.  Eay. 

"  The  shoe  is  on  the  other  foot ! "  retorted  Mrs. 
Jones. 


72  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

"  Well,  I  do  think  she's  the  most  interested," 
said  Mrs.  Kay  confidentially.  "  You  remember  what 
I  told  you  about  that  first  evening  at  my  house." 

•  But  by  this  time  the  people  under  discussion  were 
coming  up  the  steps,  to  be  effusively  greeted  by 
three  of  the  ladies. 

Esther  asked  Mrs.  Eay  if  she  might  go  up  to  the 
children  for  a  while ;  and  Mr.  Coleman  went  in  to 
get  his  mail,  and  was  seen  no  more  until  dinner. 

"  We  are  of  no  interest,"  said  Mrs.  Willow,  smiling. 

"He'll  marry  a  real  society  woman,"  murmured 
Mrs.  Eay,  adding  devoutly :  "  I  only  hope  she  won't 
be  a  Protestant." 

"  He's  held  out  pretty  long,"  said  Mrs.  Wise. 

"  Oh,  well,  he'll  be  landed  in  the  end,  when  the 
woman  comes  along  who  knows  how  to  do  it." 

"  How  do  you  know  she  hasn't  come  ?  "  persisted 
Mrs.  Willow. 

"  His  sister  says  she  believes  he  will  marry,  but 
that  he  hasn't  yet  seen  his  future  bride,"  put  in  Mrs. 
Wise. 

"  Much  his  sister  knows  about  it ! "  said  Mrs. 
Jones.  "  He  may  be  engaged,  for  all  she  knows  to 
the  contrary." 

"  Oh,  no ;  he's  not  that  kind  of  a  man ! "  ex 
claimed  Mrs.  Wise ;  "  but  I  wonder  how  his  sister 
will  like  it,  if  he  ever  is  !" 

"  What  consequence ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Jones,  who 
was  known  to  be  on  very  bad  terms  with  her  hus 
band's  family. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  73 

"  I  only  hope  Miss  Ward  isn't  setting  her  heart 
on  him,"  sighed  Mrs.  Kay ;  then  with  a  sudden 
brightening  up :  "  Let  me  tell  you  the  queerest 
thing,  but  you  must  promise  me,  every  one  of  you, 
that  you'll  never  mention  it.  I  wouldn't  be  given 
down  for  gossip  for  anything  in  the  world,  but  you 
really  ought  to  know  this." 

She  paused  so  long  that  her  auditors  gave  the 
required  promise,  lest  they  should  miss  the  news. 

"  Well,  you  know  how  crowded  we  were  in  this 
house  the  night  Mrs.  Wise  and  the  Hill  girls  and 
Fanny  Brown  came  up.  All  the  girls  had  to  go  over 
for  the  first  night  to  the  cottage;  and  even  then 
there  wouldn't  have  been  room  if  Miss  Ward  hadn't 
taken  Fanny  Brown  in.  And  what  do  you  suppose  ? 
Fanny  has  found  out  what  is  in  that  locket.  It 
happened  this  way:  She  woke  very  early.  Miss 
Ward  was  sound  asleep,  and  the  chain  seemed  to  be 
some  way  twisted  round  her  neck,  and  Fanny 
thought  it  might  liurt  her.  Well,  I  suppose 
Fanny  oughtn't  to  have  done  it,  and  she'd  kill  me  if 
she  knew  I  told  ;  but  anyhow,  she  just  reached  over, 
loosened  the  chain,  and  opened  the  locket,  and  there 
was  the  loveliest  pearl  ring  you  ever  saw,  fastened 
in  some  way  so  that  Fanny  couldn't  see  if  there  was 
a  date  or  initials  inside.  What  do  you  suppose  it 
means  ? " 

"  Can  it  be  possible  that  she  is  engaged  to  another 
man  ?"  queried  Mrs.  Willow,  unable  to  break  the  chain 
of  ideas  she  had  already  constructed  about  Esther. 


74  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

Mrs.  Eay  thought  not.  "  Who'd  keep  an  engage 
ment  ring  out  of  sight  ? " 

"  Who,  indeed  ? "  echoed  Mrs.  Jones. 

"But  he  might  have  died,"  said  Mrs.  Eay,  after 
further  reflection. 

"I  don't  believe  the  woman  was  ever  engaged," 
said  Mrs.  Jones.  "It's  probably  a  family  relic." 

"  Oh,  but  Fanny  Brown  said  it  was  the  most  beau 
tiful  pearl  ring  she  ever  saw,"  said  Mrs.  Eay. 

"Well,  the  Wards  had  everything  heart  could 
wish  when  Esther  was  a  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Willow. 

"  Pearls  are  for  tears  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Eay,  senti 
mentally;  and  the  ladies  all  went  in  to  dress  for 
dinner. 

Mrs.  Willow  was  no  longer  a  girl  when  she  made 
what  proved  to  be  a  singularly  happy  marriage. 

"  I've  never  had  a  regret,"  she  always  said,  when 
states  of  life  were  under  discussion.  Her  own  happy 
experience  was  the  justification  for  her  well-meant, 
but  frequently  inept  and  futile  efforts  to  tug  her  un 
married  friends  into  the  harbor  of  holy  matrimony. 

Mrs.  Eay  had  married  rather  early,  and  from  a 
prematurely  developed  sense  of  duty.  She  would 
have  endorsed  the  definition  of  the  small  boy  in  the 
catechism  class :  "  Matrimony  is  not  so  necessary 
but  that  one  may  be  saved  without  it;  yet  when 
a  favorable  opportunity  presents  itself,  it  would  be 
wrong  to  neglect  so  great  a  help  to  salvation." 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  75 

Mrs.  Ray's  "  favorable  opportunity  "  was  her  first. 

Like  Mrs.  Willow,  she  had  no  regrets,  and  though 
never  passionately  in  love  with  her  tall,  gray,  taci 
turn  husband,  she  was  very  proud  of  him,  and  a 
little  afraid  of  him  as  well. 

She  was  as  anxious  as  Mrs.  Willow  to  smooth  the 
way  for  other  women  into  wedlock,  but  no  happier 
in  her  attempts  at  matchmaking. 

Mrs.  Jones  had  married  late  in  life,  and  not  with 
out  difficulty.  Consequently  she  had  a  profound 
contempt  for  unmarried  women  of  a  certain  age, 
and  said  cutting  things  about  them  at  every  op 
portunity. 

Taking  the  unwedded  in  bulk,  she  firmly  believed 
that  any  man  could  marry  any  woman. 

Mrs.  Willow  and  Mrs.  Eay  said  "almost  any 
woman." 

The  "  almost "  represented  their  self-respect. 

The  three  ladies  had,  however,  a  common  form  of 
expression :  "  Do  you  think  he'd  marry  her  ? " 

What  "  she "  would  do,  was  always  taken  for 
granted. 

Once,  in  the  history  of  our  set,  it  became  known 
for  a  certainty  —  no  matter  how  —  that  a  girl  had 
refused  an  offer  of  marriage. 

"  Can  it  be  possible  ? "  exclaimed  Mesdames  Wil 
low  and  Eay  in  one  breath. 

But  Mrs.  Jones,  even  with  the  strongest  proof 
before  her,  refused  her  credence. 


76  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WOULD 

It  was  hard  for  unmarried  women  of  any  age  to 
please  Mrs.  Jones  in  their  bearing  towards  men. 

If  they  were  frank  and  cordial,  they  were  forward, 
bold,  or  shameless  in  their  pursuit  of  husbands.  If 
they  were  modest  and  retiring,  they  were  deceitful 
plotters  and  schemers,  trying  in  underhand  ways  to 
lure  the  men  on. 

Mrs.  Willow,  being  still  very  much  in  love  with 
her  husband,  regarded  all  association  of  free  men 
and  maids  with  a  kind  sentimentality.  She  would 
have  been  perfectly  happy  to  see  all  eligible  human 
kind  going  up  to  church  properly  paired, "  as  Noah's 
animals  went  into  the  Ark,"  to  quote  a  bright,  but 
flippant  girl's  comment. 

Mrs.  Willow  could  not  imagine  any  girl's  entering 
a  convent  unless  her  lover  had  died  or  forsaken  her. 

Mrs.  Eay  took  larger  views  of  the  religious  voca 
tion  and  more  businesslike  views  of  marriage ;  and 
inclined  somewhat  to  Mrs.  Jones'  opinion  as  to  the 
greater  zeal  of  women  in  the  pursuit  of  their  settle 
ment  in  life. 

It  is  easy,  therefore,  to  imagine  how  variously 
these  matrons  interpreted  the  openly  cordial  relation 
existing  between  Esther  Ward  and  Bertrand  Cole- 
man. 

Mrs.  Willow  would  have  heartily  rejoiced  that 
something  serious  should  come  of  it;  and  did  her 
best  to  help  on  this  consummation  by  praising  each 
to  each,  whenever  she  got  a  chance. 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  77 

Mrs.  Kay  thought  Mr.  Coleman  might  be  amus 
ing  himself.  It  would  be  a  come-down  for  him  if 
he  should  marry  Esther,  who,  after  all,  earned  her 
own  living;  but  if  he  should,  why,  she  would  do 
the  right  thing,  including  a  handsome  present. 

Mrs.  Jones  would  have  sincerely  deplored  the 
prospect  of  a  marriage ;  would  have  put  some 
stumbling-block  in  the  way,  if  she  could ;  and  if, 
nevertheless,  the  marriage  came  off,  would  have 
pitied  "  that  poor  man,"  and  declared  that  he  had 
been  hypnotized  into  it. 

The  problem  of  the  pearl  ring  had  been  satis 
factorily  solved  by  the  three  ladies  above  named. 
It  had  belonged  to  Esther's  older  sister,  who  had 
died  soon  after  her  engagement  —  Mrs.  Willow  was 
pretty  sure  she  had  been  engaged  to  a  gentleman 
from  Philadelphia ;  and  Esther  wore  the  ring  in  her 
locket  rather  than  on  her  finger,  said  Mrs.  Ray  and 
Mrs.  Jones,  so  that  possible  admirers  would  not  think 
she  was  "  mortgaged." 

Mrs.  Wise  alone  held  a  different  opinion  ;  and 
truly  estimated  the  friendship  between  Bertrand 
Coleman  and  Esther.  She  liked  Esther,  as  we  have 
seen,  but  not  enough  to  maintain  an  unpopular 
thesis  for  her  sake. 

Meantime  the  two  people  whose  affairs  were  pre 
occupying  so  much  of  others'  thought,  were  respec 
tively  preoccupied,  but  with  plans,  hopes  and  fears 
far  other  than  those  accredited  to  them. 


78  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WOELD 

Bertrand  Coleman  showed  unmistakable  signs  of 
restlessness  and  anxiety  as  the  month  of  August 
drew  towards  its  end  ;  and  was  vigilant  for  the  mail 
and  for  the  hotel  register.  Jane,  who  was  getting 
restless,  too,  but  had  her  feelings  under  better  con 
trol,  was  always  just  a  little  in  advance  of  her 
brother  for  both. 

It  was  not  for  the  coming  of  Major  Me  Alpine 
that  Mr.  Coleman  or  even  Jane  looked  so  constantly 
and  nervously.  No  doubt  if  he  had  come,  however, 
Jane  would  have  reflected  less  on  her  brother's  per 
turbation,  and  shown  less  evident  relief,  when  the 
search  of  the  mail  and  the  register  was  unrewarded 
up  to  and  including  the  day  of  their  departure  from 
the  Chouteau. 

Jane  noticed  incidentally  that  Esther  received 
many  foreign  letters. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  79 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   PRODIGAL   BROTHER. 

As  Esther  re-entered  her  little  apartment  after  a 
round  of  errands  one  chilly  evening  of  the  October 
following,  her  housekeeper  met  her  with  the  an 
nouncement  that  her  brother  was  awaiting  her  in 
the  studio. 

This  was  a  sufficiently  ordinary  event,  except  as 
to  the  hour  of  his  coming ;  but  if  you  had  lived 
under  the  roof  with  Esther  you  would  soon  have 
noticed  how  quickly  she  paled  at  the  slightest  devi 
ation  from  the  ordinary.  An  unusual  postmark  on 
a  letter,  a  strange  handwriting,  or  the  appearance  of 
her  brother,  as  now,  at  an  unusual  time,  invariably 
gave  her  the  hunted,  apprehensive  look  of  one  who 
lives  in  almost  unbroken  fear  of  unwelcome  or  even 
disastrous  tidings. 

This  time  there  was  no  reassurance  in  her 
brother's  grave  and  anxious  face. 

With  only  a  distant  and  passing  look  at  Joseph 
Ward  you  might  have  mistaken  him  for  Bertrand 
Coleman  —  the  same  height  and  build,  soldierly 
bearing,  and  rich,  dark  coloring.  But  near,  and  in 
full  light,  you  would  have  noticed  that  Joseph  Ward 


80  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 

was  not  nearly  so  handsome,  though  he  had  an  intel 
ligent,  open  countenance,  nor  at  all  comparable  for 
a  certain  quiet  and  fastidious  elegance  of  toilet. 

It  was  the  difference  between  a  successful  profes 
sional  man  and  a  man  who  has  fallen  into  a  routine 
in  the  higher  mechanical  pursuits. 

"  You  have  heard  from  Ned  ? "  asked  Esther,  nerv 
ously. 

Her  brother  nodded.     He  was  a  man  of  few  words. 

"He'll  be  here  tomorrow,"  he  said,  after  a  long 
pause. 

"And,  as  usual,  without  money  or  work,"  said 
Esther. 

Joseph  nodded  again. 

"And,  as  usual,  I  am  to  find  both  ? " 

"  Well,  what  can  I  do,  Esther  ?  As  things  are  at 
present,  it's  all  I  can  do  to  hold  on  to  my  own  place. 
And  even  if  it  were  different,  I  daren't  take  him 
among  our  crowd." 

"  But  he  can  stay  with  you,  at  your  house,"  ven 
tured  Esther,  "  until  I  can  do  a  little  planning  and 
thinking  ? " 

"  Of  course,  Esther,  if  it  depended  on  me  alone, 
I'd  take  him  for  a  month  gladly ;  but  Mollie  has 
simply  put  her  foot  down.  She  won't  have  him; 
and  then  "  —  hesitatingly  —  "  you  know  she  isn't 
quite  well  at  present,  and  must  not  be  excited." 

"  I  suppose  I  must  fix  for  him  here,  then,"  she 
said  ;  "  but  I'll  look  for  work  for  him  elsewhere." 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  81 

"Well,  I  can't  blame  you;  but  you  are  pretty 
nice  here,"  he  said,  looking  appreciatively  at  the 
rugs  and  draperies,  and  the  solid,  but  not  too 
abundant  furniture. 

"  Haven't  I  worked  hard  for  it  ? "  asked  the 
woman,  with  the  faintest  touch  of  resentment  in 
her  voice. 

"I  know  you  have,  Esther,"  said  her  brother, 
"  and  you've  been  good  and  kind  to  all  of  us,  besides. 
What  would  we  have  done  last  year,  when  the  two 
little  chaps  were  sick  so  long,  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
you  ?  I'm  sure  they  think  everything  in  the  world 
of  their  Aunt  Esther." 

"I  hope  they're  all  right  now,"  she  said,  with 
softening  eyes. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  you  should  see  them  box !  I  suppose 
it's  hard  that  so  much  is  thrown  on  you  —  but  what 
can  I  do  ? " 

"He's  had  six  hundred  dollars  from  me  since 
June  ;  and  I'd  try  to  spare  him  enough  to  keep  him 
decently  wherever  he  would  choose  to  stay.  Any 
thing  but  to  have  him  here  at  this  time." 

"  Does  he  know  ?  "  asked  Joseph,  nodding  in  the 
direction  of  the  veiled  portrait. 

"No!"  cried  Esther,  "and  for  God's  sake  don't 
tell  him.  Why,  he'd  borrow  money  of  him.  Worse 
still,  he'd  write  and  say  that  I  was  sick  and  needed 
money.  You  know  what  he  has  done  where  mere 
friends  were  concerned,  before  I  came  here  at  all  — 
when  I  was  just  getting  on  my  feet." 


82  THE   WAY   OF   THE   WORLD 

"  Esther,  you  have  had  hard  lines,  I  know ;  but  I 
think  the  worst  is  over,"  said  her  brother  hopefully. 
"  Just  read  his  letter ;  I'm  sure  he  has  turned  over  a 
new  leaf." 

"  He  has  turned  over  a  whole  book  full  of  new 
leaves  within  the  past  ten  years,"  said  Esther. 
"  But  of  course,  Joe,  I  shall  not  let  him  want  for 
anything,  nor  show  any  sign  of  doubt  that  he's  in 
earnest  this  time. 

"  I  know  you  won't,  Esther ;  you  never  did.  Poor 
mother  used  to  say  nothing  could  be  more  lovely 
and  delicate  than  your  treatment  of  him.  Perhaps 
if  you  had  been  harder  "  — 

"Joe,  I  can't  fight  my  own." 

"Then  I  think  poor  Ned  isn't  quite  responsible. 
Of  course  that  hasn't  made  the  consequences  any 
easier  for  you,  Esther,"  he  added. 

"So  he  comes  tomorrow,"  she  mused. 

"Yes.     He  was  ashamed  to  write  to  you  himself." 

"  Well,"  sighed  Esther,  "  I'll  do  what  I  can ;  but 
somehow  I  have  an  awful  presentiment  of  evil  to 
come  of  this  experiment." 

"  Oh,  no,  Esther;  that's  just  because  you  are  tired. 
Somehow  you  always  make  things  come  out  right," 
he  added,  admiringly. 

Esther  sighed  again.  "  Will  you  stay  and  dine 
with  me,  Joe  ? " 

"Well,  Mollie  said  she  wouldn't  mind  if  I  did," 
he  answered,  with  a  boyish  laugh.  "  I  always  enjoy 
a  bit  with  you,  and  I  can  stay  till  the  9.30  train." 


AND   OTHER    WAYS.  83 

From  all  of  which  it  may  be  seen  that  Mr.  Joseph 
Ward  was  very  much  married. 

Ned  came  not,  however,  on  the  morrow,  nor  for 
.six  weeks  of  morrows  thereafter.  Meanwhile  Esther 
and  Joe  were  in  a  state  of  mind  which,  beginning 
with  a  sort  of  indignant  suspense,  and  running 
through  various  stages  of  fear  of  irretrievable  calam 
ity  to  this  poor  black  sheep,  who  was,  after  all,  of 
their  own  flock,  ended  in  a  conviction  that  they  both 
had  been  to  blame  somehow  or  other,  and  that  once 
more  they  would  do  anything  in  the  world  for  him 
if  only  he  would  reappear. 

This  was  exactly  the  state  of  affairs  which  Mr. 
Edwin  Ward  had  intended  to  bring  about,  for  he  was 
quite  aware  that  he  had  tried  the  long-suffering  love 
and  patience  of  his  sister  to  the  breaking  point. 

Meantime  there  were  many  anxious  consultations 
in  the  late  evening  hours  in  Esther's  studio  between 
herself  and  Joe.  Mollie  "  took  no  stock,"  as  she 
expressed  it,  in  either  the  despairs  or  the  threats  — 
still  less  in  the  penitent  promises  of  her  interesting 
brother-in-law,  and  put  up  her  nerves  between  her 
self  and  his  very  name. 

Meantime,  also,  Esther  worked  as  seldom  before, 
even  in  her  always  busy  life ;  for  of  one  thing,  amid 
other  uncertainties,  she  could  have  infallible  certi 
tude.  Money,  and  still  more  money,  would  be 
needed. 

It  chanced,  therefore,  that  she  was  not  often  seen 
among  us  during  that  anxious  autumn. 


84  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

Esther's  irregular  attendance  at  the  meetings  of 
the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula,  and  her  less  frequent 
and  very  brief  appearances  at  Mrs.  Willow's  Sundays 
and  Mrs.  Ray's  Wednesdays,  attracted  less  attention 
than  would  have  been  given  them  at  a  less  preoccu 
pied  time ;  for  had  we  not  also  on  our  minds  the 
engagement  of  Minnie  Gray,  and  the  elopement  of 
Nannie  Oldfield  with  an  insignificant  young  fellow 
from  Pittsburg,  whom  she  met  at  Narragansett  Pier 
only  three  months  before,  and  to  whom  her  father 
had  forbidden  the  house  ? 

But  Esther's  movements  were  not  altogether 
unnoted. 

The  Colemans  managed  to  see  her  oftener  than 
any  of  us,  as  they  studied  her  convenience  better. 

"  That  little  woman  is  working  too  hard,"  said 
Bertrand  Coleman  to  his  sister,  soon  after  they  had 
returned  from  their  protracted  summering. 

Jane  agreed  that  she  was  looking  rather  hollow- 
eyed,  and  suggested  that  it  would  be  a  kindly 
attention  to  take  her  with  them  to  the  theatre,  now 
and  then. 

Mr.  Coleman,  too,  if  her  name  happened  to  be 
spoken  in  his  presence,  kindled  into  a  ready  enthu 
siasm  over  her  pictures,  and  declared  she  was  a 
woman  for  our  people  to  be  proud  of ;  but  that  we 
never  half  appreciated  our  own,  anyhow. 

He  wanted  one  of  her  pictures,  and  would  have  had, 
of  his  own  choice  at  a  sale  at  Bellini  &  Leverett's, 


AND   OTHER   WATS.  85 

"  The  Forsaken  Christ,"  which  appealed  profoundly 
to  him  —  man  of  the  world  as  he  was  —  but  Jane 
agreed  with  Mrs.  Mint  —  it  gave  her  a  chill,  she 
said ;  and  she  would  have  "  The  Moss  Eose  Bud  "  or 
nothing.  In  matters  of  this  kind,  Jane  always  had 
her  way  with  her  brother. 

When  some  one  spoke  of  Esther's  comparative 
seclusion,  and  immediately  mentioned  having  seen 
her  with  the  ColemaDS  at  the  theatre  the  previous 
evening,  Mrs.  Ray,  who  rather  lacked  variety  of 
expression,  repeated  : 

"  Miss  "Ward  has  other  fish  to  fry.  We  don't 
count  for  much  now-a-days." 

Mrs.  Willow,  forgiving  Esther's  daily  preoccu 
pations,  fervently  and  publicly  hoped  that  Esther 
would  soon  be  beyond  the  necessity  of  toiling  like 
a  slave. 

Mrs.  Macduff  averred  that  this  going  to  the 
theatre  as  a  trio  was  a  mere  blind ;  for  Mr.  Coleman 
had  "  been  seen "  going  to  and  coming  from  Miss 
Ward's  alone  in  the  evening  quite  often. 

The  younger  Daughters  of  St.  Paula,  with  whom 
Esther  was  quite  a  favorite,  helped  to  spread  the 
report  that  it  looked  as  if  there  was  "  something  in 
it " ;  and  Mrs.  Wise  was  so  moved  by  all  these 
things  that  despite  Mrs.  Ray's  reminder  of  how  far 
a  man  may  go  and  mean  nothing  serious  —  she?, 
always  intent  to  be  on  the  winning  side  in  such 
matters  —  sent  the  surprised  Esther  a  pretty  gift 
the  following  Christmas. 


86  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

But  I  am  anticipating  a  little.  Ned,  in  default  of 
his  father's,  caine  home  to  his  sister's  house,  and  the 
fatted  calf  and  fine  and  much-needed  new  raiment, 
a  fortnight  before  Christmas. 

Well-dressed  and  sober,  as  he  was  this  morning, 
sitting  opposite  to  Esther  at  her  neat  little  break 
fast-table,  he  was  a  young  man  of  singularly  refined 
and  attractive  presence. 

Not  swarthy,  serious  and  slow  of  speech,  like  Joe, 
he  would  at  first  sight  make  ten  favorable  impres 
sions  to  his  brother's  one.  But  experienced  people 
would  have  been  repelled  by  a  something  of  femi 
nine  delicacy  in  the  hands,  too  slim  and  white  for  a 
man ;  in  the  feminine  fastidiousness  of  his  toilet ; 
and  still  more,  by  a  certain  indecisiveness  and  insin 
cerity  in  the  large,  lustrous  brown  eyes. 

Ned  was  never  more  engaging  than  in  his  peni 
tence  ;  and  though  it  was  the  oldest  of  old  stories, 
Esther  found  herself  yielding  to  its  spell  once  more. 

"  Esther,"  he  was  saying,  "  when  I  look  about  me, 
and  think  of  all  your  past  sacrifices,  and  all  you 
have  achieved  in  art  and  in  social  life,  despite  the 
drag  upon  you,  I  believe  you  the  most  wonderful 
woman  in  the  world,  and  feel  unworthy  to  breathe 
the  same  air  with  you." 

Ned  always  felt  good-natured  when  he  was  having 
his  own  way,  and  he  had  a  ready  stock  of  flattery 
which  had  stood  him  in  good  stead  in  many  a  hard 
place. 


AND   OTHER    WAYS.  87 

Esther  waved  away  these  brotherly  praises,  though 
not  without  a  secret  pleasure  in  them. 

"  Ned,  you  are  younger  than  I,  and  in  many  ways 
cleverer  than  any  of  us  ;  and  you  could  build  up  a 
place  for  yourself  if  only  you  would  keep  to  one 
thing,  and  "  — 

"  Let  wine  and  cards  alone  "  —  he  was  too  fastidi 
ous  to  say  whiskey  and  poker — "don't  spare  me, 
sister,  I  don't  deserve  it.  But  if  I  could  be  here, 
and  have  the  comfort  of  your  sympathy  and 
advice  "  — 

Esther  winced ;  but  it  was  what  she  had  expected 
all  along. 

"  I  don't  wonder  you  fear  to  have  me,"  he  said, 
humbly.  "  But  if  I  were  not  alone  in  the  world 
I'd  be  a  better  man.  If  only  my  darling  Agnes  had 
lived!" 

Ned  carried  a  departed  lady-love  in  his  vest- 
pocket  against  just  such  emergencies  as  this.  Pri 
vately,  Esther  regarded  the  fair  Agnes  as  a  figment 
of  her  brother's  lively  imagination  ;  but  at  least  his 
moistened  eyes  were  very  real,  and  the  discussion 
ended  like  all  similar  ones,  by  her  promise  of  help 
ing  him  to  something  right  in  the  city. 

Meantime  Ned  fairly  basked  in  the  brightness 
and  beauty  of  Esther's  studio,  and  the  little  home 
generally.  It  must  be  said,  however,  that  the  veiled 
portrait  had  not  remained  to  excite  Ned's  curiosity, 
of  which  he  possessed  more  than  is  accounted  seemly 
in  a  man. 


88  THE  WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

Through  Jack  Holmwood's  good  offices  a  place 
was  found  for  him  at  the  opening  of  the  year  in 
the  publishing  house  of  the  Messrs.  Frost  &  North. 
He  made  a  good  impression,  took  hold  of  his  duties 
capably,  and  for  fully  two  months  Esther  believed 
that  at  last  the  long-prayed-for  reformation  was 
surely  achieved. 

Then  she  was  roughly  awakened  from  her  dream 
of  peace. 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  89 


CHAPTEK  X. 

A  FKIEND   IN   NEED. 

left  his  sister  one  morning  with  no  more 
than  a  dress-suit  case  could  carry,  on  a  two  days' 
business  trip  "  for  the  house,"  as  he  explained. 

She  had  no  misgiving,  and  was  singing  softly  to 
herself  as  she  mixed  her  paints  the  following  morn 
ing,  intent  on  getting  for  her  work  all  the  good  of  a 
clear,  sunshiny  March  day. 

Her  housekeeper  entered  with  the  morning  mail. 

On  the  letter  which  topped  the  pile  she  recog 
nized  Ned's  too  familiar  hand. 

"  He  was  to  be  home  tonight,"  she  mused,  leisurely 
slitting  the  envelope.  "  Something  must  have  hap 
pened  to  detain  him." 

This  was  what  she  read : 

EN  EOUTE,  B.  &  0.  E.K., 
March  1,  19  — 

DEAREST  ESTHER  :  Forgive  me  yet  again,  and 
think  not  too  severely  of  one  whose  presence  shall 
never  afflict  you  more.  I  accommodated  myself 
with  some  of  the  money  of  the  house — $650  — 
for  I  believed  I  saw  a  way  to  double  it.  Alas  !  I 
was  mistaken.  I  was  cheated  out  of  that  and  more, 
too.  I  cannot  replace  it,  and  I  cannot  face  the 


90  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

manager  or  you.  For  your  own  sake,  if  not  for 
mine,  I  know  you  will  make  the  deficiency  good  and 
get  the  matter  hushed  up.  You  can  do  anything, 
Esther,  and  some  of  these  days  I  will  make  your 
loss  good,  and  win  back  the  respect  and  love  which 
I  know  I  have  at  last  wholly  forfeited.  Your  un 
fortunate  but  always  loving  NED. 

Esther  dropped  into  a  chair  by  the  window,  and 
tried  to  adjust  her  thoughts  to  this  new  calamity. 

It  was  the  culmination  of  many  similar  experi 
ences.  But  here,  where  at  last  she  seemed  to  be 
established  in  honor !  How  to  face  Jack  Holm- 
wood  !  How  to  meet  the  defrauded  employers  and 
set  things  straight ! 

The  letter  was  so  characteristic.  The  blindness 
to  inevitable  consequence  which  she  knew  so  well 
—  the  willingness  to  blame  some  one  else  —  "I  was 
cheated  " —  which  had  marked  him  from  his  nursery 
days ! 

But  hard  circumstances  had  made  of  the  dreamer 
a  woman  prompt  in  action  as  well  as  fertile  in  re 
sources.  "  For  your  own  sake,  if  not  for  mine  ! " 

Ned  had  struck  a  master-chord  here;  for  as  I 
have  told  you,  dear  reader,  Esther  had  a  pride  in 
her  honorable  place  and  name,  though  for  the 
moment  she  felt  little  but  cold  contempt  and  dis 
gust  for  him  who  had  so  cruelly  involved  both. 

She  looked  at  her  bank-book,  which  by  some  mis 
chance  had  been  accessible  to  interested  eyes  — just 
to  her  credit. 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  .  91 

"  He  calculated  pretty  closely,"  she  said,  bitterly. 

A  shadow  fell  across  the  curtain.  She  looked  up. 
Mr.  Coleman  waved  his  hand  to  her,  and  passed  on 
to  ring  her  bell. 

"  I  came  on  Jane's  behalf  and  my  own  to  ask  you 
over  to  luncheon,"  he  said.  "  We  expect  —  but, 
Miss  Ward,"  stopping  short,  for  Esther  had  not  had 
time  to  recover  her  wonted  color  and  composure: 
"  are  you  not  well  ? " 

He  looked  down  kindly  at  the  white,  drawn  face. 

"  You  are  overworking.  I  have  been  saying  so 
to  Jane.  Come  over  early  and  rest.  You  will 
enjoy  Signer  Battaglia  —  an  artist,  like  yourself.  I 
wouldn't  hurry,  but  I  have  an  appointment  with 
Frost  &  North  —  I  am  their  counsel,  you  know  — 
before  court." 

Esther  grew  whiter  —  "  Frost  &  North,"  she  mur 
mured.  "  My  brother  "  — 

Bertrand  Coleman's  professional  discernment  was 
keen. 

Esther  had  done  her  best  to  keep  Ned  and  the 
Colemans  apart,  but  vainly  ;  and  the  older  man  had 
read  the  younger  correctly. 

"Sit  down,  Miss  Ward,"  he  said,  briskly  but 
kindly,  "  and  tell  me  in  five  minutes  what  trouble 
your  brother  has  got  you  into.  He  has  been  with 
Frost  &  North  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  he  has  the  money  to  make  the  deficit 
good,"  she  answered.  "  It  is  in  my  possession.  I 


92  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WOULD 

shall  have  it  for  you  in  ten  minutes.  Can  you  spare 
me  that  time  before  you  go  to  Frost  &  North  ? " 

He  smiled  faintly  at  the  woman's  pitiful  little 
falsehood,  and  pretended  not  to  see  her  slip  her 
bank-book  into  the  magazine  in  her  hand. 

"  I'll  wait  for  you,"  he  said ;  "  it  is  only  twenty 
minutes  past  nine." 

She  was  back  in  less  than  the  time  specified,  and 
laid  the  money  in  his  hands. 

"Now,  Miss  "Ward,"  he  said  firmly,  "you  will 
make  it  easier  for  me  to  save  your  brother's  reputa 
tion  if  you  will  tell  me  the  whole  truth." 

"  Is  there  no  other  way  ? " 

"  It  is  the  only  way,"  he  said  gravely.  "  You  are 
speaking  to  me  in  professional  confidence." 

She  grew  still  whiter. 

"  Well,  then,  I  have  deceived  you."  And  she  laid 
Ned's  letter  in  Bertrand  Coleman's  hands. 

"  Poor  child,"  he  murmured,  pressing  her  cold 
fingers  in  his  warm  ones.  "  Meet  me  at  my  office 
at  quarter  past  twelve." 

Just  before  Esther  started  to  keep  the  appoint 
ment,  another  and  briefer  letter  came  from  Ned : 

"DEAE  E. :  It  is  $1,000,  not  $650 — but  some 
friend  will  lend  you  the  difference." 

She  tore  the  note  in  shreds  and  put  a  match  to 
the  fragments  on  the  hearthstone.  She  had  barely 
time-  to  reach  Mr.  Coleman's  office,  riding. 

Well,  she  would  have  $125  for  the  picture  now 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  93 

in  hand,  and  it  was  nearly  finished ;  and  there  were 
other  orders  waiting. 

Joe  ?  But  Joe  couldn't  get  much  ahead,  with  his 
moderate  salary  and  delicate  wife  and  fast-increasing 
family. 

She  had  some  jewelry  and  bric-a-brac  on  which 
she  could  realize. 

By  this  time  she  was  in  the  elevator,  and  in 
another  instant  knocking  at  the  door  of  Mr.  Cole- 
man's  private  office. 

"Give  a  well-ordered  speech  in  my  mouth,  0 
Lord,"  she  was  praying  like  her  namesake  of  old, 
"that  my  words  may  be  pleasing"  — 

Mr.  Coleman  himself  opened  the  door,  and  drew 
her  into  a  chair  beside  his  desk. 

The  beating  of  her  heart  sounded  louder  in  her 
ears  than  her  voice,  as  she  murmured : 

"  It  was  a  thousand  dollars." 

"  Yes,"  he  said  soothingly,  "  I  know  all  about  it 
now.  It  is  all  settled.  See  ! "  and  he  handed  her 
a  receipt  made  out  in  due  form  to  Esther  Ward. 
"  For  your  sake,  you  brave  little  woman,  there  will 
be  no  more  about  it." 

" But  I  owe  you  $350,"  she  said  ,  "I  think  I  can 
have  it  all  for  you  within  a  week.  But  you  can 
never  know  how  grateful  I  am.  The  money  returned 
will  not  pay  the  debt." 

"  Nonsense,"  he  said  smiling.  "  I  am  glad  to  have 
relieved  your  anxiety.  Don't  hesitate  to  count  on 
my  friendship  whenever  I  can  be  of  service  to  you." 


94  THE   WAY   OF  THE  WORLD 

"  If  it  had  been  anything  but  this,"  she  faltered. 

"  My  dear  child,  we  all  have  brothers  and  sisters 
and  cousins  and  aunts,"  he  answered ;  "and  none  of 
us  know  what  trouble  we  may  get  ourselves  into 
before  we  die.  There  now  "  —  as  he  saw  she  could 
not  control  the  trembling  of  her  lips  —  "  drop  your 
veil  down ;  I'll  put  you  in  a  cab  and  send  you 
home.  You  are  not  up  to  the  luncheon  today. 
But " —  stopping  for  a  moment,  to  make  out  a  note 
with  great  ceremony  —  "  sign  this ;  and  mind,  if  you 
offer  me  that  money  before  the  end  of  the  year,  I 
shall  be  very  seriously  offended  with  you." 

He  meant  to  order  a  replica  of  "  The  Forsaken 
Christ,"  after  a  while,  and  take  it  in  payment. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  95 


CHAPTER   XL 

THE   FATEFUL   POKTRAIT. 

A  MONTH  later  Jane,  who  of  course  knew  nothing 
of  the  matters  above  narrated,  except  that  Ned  was 
a  rover,  expressed  her  sorrow  that  there  was  no 
good  picture  of  her  brother  Bertrand  extant. 

"If  you  would  paint  him  as  you  painted  Mr. 
Willow,"  sighed  the  fond  sister,  "I'd  be  happy. 
Bertrand  is  a  much  finer  subject,  too." 

"  Why,  I'd  be  delighted  to  paint  his  portrait  for 
a  gift  to  you  for  your  birthday,  if  he  could  spare 
the  time  for  the  sittings,"  said  Esther  impulsively. 

She  flushed  a  little  at  the  knowing  gleam  in  Jane's 
eyes,  as  the  latter  laughingly  but  most  promptly 
accepted  her  offer ;  but  it  was  made,  and  could  not 
be  withdrawn. 

"Yet  I  owe  him  that  and  more,"  she  said  to  her 
self,  to  quiet  the  uncomfortable  feeling  that  crept 
over  her  whenever  she  recalled  Jane's  expression. 

"  It's  the  only  thing  I  can  do.  He  will  not  mis 
understand.  I  believe  I  am  not  fair  to  Jane,  either. 
Why,  she  wouldn't  be  such  a  friend  of  mine  if  she 
thought  —  oh,  if  I  could  tell  her  the  truth !  She 
shall  be  the  first  to  hear  it  when  I  am  free  to  speak." 


96  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

So  Esther  reasoned  herself  into  an  easier  state  of 
mind,  and  went  out  -and  spent  the  afternoon  with 
Mrs.  Ormond,  by  way  of  rest  before  her  new  under 
taking. 

For  she  wished  it  to  be  a  worthy  expression  of 
her  gratitude. 

Now,  dear  reader,  you  know  what  none  of  our  set 
knows  even  yet :  why  Esther  Ward  painted  Bertrand 
Coleman's  portrait. 

Jane  was  over  betimes,  next  morning,  to  urge 
Esther  to  a  speedy  beginning  of  the  portrait. 

"  Bertrand  will  be  delighted  to  sit  for  you,"  she 
said.  "  He  can  give  you  from  three  o'clock  to  five 
almost  any  afternoon,  beginning  tomorrow.  The 
light  is  splendid  at  that  time  now." 

"Yes,  the  light  is  all  right,"  responded  Esther, 
but  there  was  unwonted  irresolution  in  her  voice 
and  eyes. 

Jane  looked  at  her  sharply. 

"The  truth  is,  Jane,"  continued  the  artist,  "I 
spoke  impulsively  yesterday,  and  I  have  been 
troubled  about  it  ever  since.  In  all  probability  your 
brother  may  have  a  different  choice.  There  is  Signor 
Battaglia,  for  example." 

"Oh,  if  that's  all  you  are  troubled  about,  be  at 
ease.  He  says  Battaglia  is  a  botch  at  portraits 
beside  you.  Why,  my  brother  would  rather  have 
you  do  it  than  anyone  else  in  the  world,  and  I'm 
sure  I  would." 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  97 

Esther  looked  relieved. 

"  But,  Jane,  somehow  or  other  I  felt  after  I  had 
spoken  yesterday,  as  if  I'd  been  a  little  forthputting, 
so  to  speak." 

"  Esther  Ward,  you  are  the  most  foolishly  sensi 
tive  woman  I  ever  knew.  You  said  just  what  I 
was  hoping  you  would  say." 

"  You  and  your  brother  have  been  very  kind  to 
me,"  said  Esther,  with  her  face  a  little  in  shadow,  as 
she  restored  a  volume  to  its  place  on  the  book-shelves. 

"  Oh,  nonsense ;  do  you  suppose  we'd  have  asked 
you  to  places  if  we  didn't  enjoy  having  you  ? " 

It  was,  perhaps,  a  blunt  way  of  putting  things, 
but  it  reassured  Esther  better  than  a  smoother 
speech  would  have  done. 

So  the  picture  was  begun,  and  Bertrand  Coleman 
was  very  faithful  to  the  appointed  sittings,  Jane 
often  bearing  him  company  ;  and  the  gossip  which 
otherwise  would  have  died  out  received  a  fresh 
and  mighty  impulse. 

There  were  two  parties  presently:  that  of  Mrs. 
Willow,  who,  as  Esther's  "  best  friend,"  saw  "  some 
thing  in  it,"  and  to  which,  of  course,  Mrs.  Wise 
adhered,  with  many  of  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula, 
among  whom  under  solemn  secrecy  to  each,  Fanny 
Brown  had  divulged  her  discovery  of  the  pearl  ring ; 
and  that  of  Mrs.  Kay,  equally  professing  herself  the 
"  best  friend "  of  the  woman  under  discussion,  who 
furtively  exchanged  regrets  that  Miss  Ward  should 


98 

aim  so  palpably  too  high,  and  made  large  advance 
payments  of  pity  for  her  inevitable  coming  to  grief. 

Jane  unintentionally  played  into  the  hands  of  this 
latter  party. 

"  So  Miss  Ward  is  painting  your  brother's  picture," 
said  Mrs.  Eay,  when  she  had  chance  to  speak  with 
Miss  Coleman  at  one  of  her  Wednesdays. 

"  Yes,  he's  sitting  now ;  I'm  going  to  call  for  him 
on  my  way  home,"  responded  Jane,  advancing  to  the 
door. 

"  It  was  nice  of  him  to  give  her  an  order,"  con 
tinued  Mrs.  Eay. 

"  It  isn't  an  order,  it's  a  gift,"  explained  Jane. 

"0  —  h  ! "  cried  her  hostess.  She  would  have 
whistled,  if  she  had  not  deemed  that  vocal  exercise 
an  unladylike  vent  for  emotion. 

"  She  offered  to  do  it  for  a  gift  for  my  birthday," 
finished  [the  departing  guest,  who  meant  no  mischief 
to  her  friend  by  this  too  condensed  statement  of  the 
case. 

However,  it  mattered  little  at  the  time,  as  Mrs. 
Willow's  folio  whig  were  in  the  majority. 

Mrs.  Jones  had  quieted  down  somewhat  since 
her  unhappy  premature  judgments  on  Mrs.  Mint's 
affairs,  and  the  tide  of  popular  good-will  had  set 
toward  Esther. 

She,  meanwhile,  had  had  so  much  work  on  hand 
and  so  many  grave  preoccupations,  family  and  per 
sonal,  that  she  had  gotten  out  of  touch  with  the  life 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  99 

of  our  set ;  and,  as  not  seldom  happens,  was  the  last 
to  hear  of  the  gossip  which  concerned  her  most. 

Eastertide,  blossom-time,  the  season  of  joy  and 
hope  pre-eminent !  Yet,  once  the  first  youth  of  any 
of  us  has  passed,  the  long,  bright  days  are  not  all 
unshadowed.  The  birds  come  back,  but  something 
passed  away  last  autumn  that  returns  not  with  the 
birds.  The  willows  feather  out  pale  green  beside  a 
thousand  singing  streams ;  and  it  is  good  to  hear  the 
sweet,  shrill  voices  of  the  children,  as  they  hunt  for 
Mayflowers  under  the  thin-leaved  trees  of  New  Eng 
land  woods,  and  to  feel  the  fragrance  of  the  pear 
and  apple  blossoms  in  our  house-gardens ;  but  the 
flowers  bloom  on  beloved  graves  as  well,  and  we  go 
no  more  a-Maying  with  the  untroubled  heart  of 
childhood. 

Esther  had  always  loved  the  springtime,  and,  for 
all  of  the  hard  lines  of  her  life,  had  kept  more  of 
the  child-heart  to  give  it  meet  welcome  than  most 
women  bring  into  their  maturity. 

She  could  not  understand  why  this  spring,  earlier 
and  lovelier  than  any  she  had  known,  should  seem 
to  have  so  long  a  shadow  cast  from  before,  on  its 
blue  skies  and  brilliant  sunshine. 

"Only  six  months  more,"  she  whispered;  but 
the  words  had  not  their  expected  magic,  although 
they  stood  out  from  the  page  in  the  clear,  heavy 
hand  —  the  dearest  hand  in  the  world !  —  which 


100  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

had  become  so  familiar  to  the  carrier  on  the  route 
that  he  often  smiled  broadly  as  he  slipped  the  thick, 
almost  daily  letter  that  bore  it  into  Miss  Ward's 
letter-box. 

"  Only  six  months  more,"  she  read  for  the  twenti 
eth  time  that  afternoon,  "till  I  put  on  your  dear 
little  finger  my  ring,  which  I  have  given  you  to  wear 
meantime  over  your  heart.  Only  six  months  more 
till  all  the  world  may  know  what  only  you  and  I 
and  our  faithful  Joseph  know  now.  I  would  wrong 
you,  dearest  Esther,  by  saying, '  be  patient.'  It  is  I 
who  have  need  of  patience,  my  proud,  shy  sweet 
heart,  who  held  my  love  off  so  long,  and  are  so 
sparing  of  your  love's  confession,  even  yet." 

There  was  much  more  in  the  closely  written  eight 
pages,  but  you  of  course  have  had  your  love-letters, 
dear  reader,  and  your  imagination  of  the  rest  will 
be  fairly  faithful  to  fact. 

So  much  might  happen  in  six  months !  She 
trembled  now  before  the  near  fruition  of  her  hopes, 
and  mindful  of  a  saying  that  had  impressed  her 
youth,  "  Misfortunes  never  come  from  the  quarter 
they  are  looked  for,"  forecast  every  possible  seeming 
evil  chance,  by  way  of  insuring  immunity  from  it ! 

"  God  forgive  me  ! "  she  cried,  realizing  the  gloomy 
reverie  into  which  she  had  unwittingly  lapsed ;  "  this 
is  to  be  as  superstitious  as  an  oldtime  Pagan  or  an 
up-to-date  Bostonian  ! " 

She  began  to  make  ready  for  Bertrand  Coleman's 
sitting,  noting,  meanwhile,  in  her  own  despite,  that 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  101 

this  long-lasting  presentiment  of  sorrow  synchro 
nized  with  her  beginning  of  his  picture. 

Not  that  she  in  any  way  connected  him  or  his 
with  her  foreboding.  She  enjoyed  his  sittings, 
especially  when  he  was  in  his  communicative  mood ; 
and  none  the  less  when  Jane  was  with  him,  to  bring 
them  both  back  from  the  abstract  questions  which 
they  loved  to  discuss,  to  the  pleasant  events  or  the 
droll  mischances  of  the  world  about  them. 

"  A  woman  couldn't  have  a  better  or  kinder 
friend,"  she  mused,  with  a  grateful  glow  at  her 
heart,  recalling  his  effective  intervention  in  her 
brother's  affair.  She  fell  to  wishing  that  he  was 
of  her  nearest  blood  kindred ;  and  realized  that  if 
she  could  have  the  confidant  that  —  reticent  as  she 
was,  she  had  at  length  begun  to  long  for,  Bertrand 
Coleman  would  be  her  choice. 


102  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 


CHAPTEE  XII. 

A  MAN   IN   HOPE   AND   A  WOMAN   IN   LOVE. 

HER  subject  came  in  on  the  thought,  cheery  and 
talkative,  to  her  great  satisfaction ;  for  he  was  a  man 
of  many  moods,  and  had  given  her  his  last  sitting  in 
a  grave  preoccupation,  from  which  he  roused  himself 
with  effort  to  make  sundry  inappropriate  comments 
on  the  weather. 

Today  he  came  alone,  and  as  he  chatted  with  her, 
or  often  soliloquized  aloud,  the  artist  had  at  least  no 
cause  to  complain  of  her  subject's  lack  of  animation. 

"  But  it  isn't  quite  what  I  want,"  she  said,  laying 
down  her  brush  and  gazing  at  him  intently  with  a 
critical,  dissatisfied  expression. 

"  When  you  look  at  me  like  that,  I  feel  as  if  I 
were  one  of  Mrs.  Jarley's  wax  figures,"  he  protested, 
laughing. 

"I  want  to  send  you  down  the  ages  with  your 
most  splendid  expression,"  she  rejoined.  "  Today 
your  face  shows  only  the  surface  of  your  soul ;  and 
personally,  as  well  as  professionally,  I  don't  like  you 
nearly  so  well  in  your  bantering  moods  as  in  your 
serious  ones.  Now,  don't  do  that "  —  as  he  knotted 
his  brows,  and  looked  as  if  he  were  cross-questioning 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  103 

a  difficult  witness  ;  "  nor  that "  —  as  he  struck  an 
oratorical  attitude. 

"  Mr.  Coleman,  we  are  wasting  valuable  light,  to 
say  nothing  of  time.  Be,  serious,  but  not  aggressive, 
nor  defiant,  nor  preoccupied,  nor  self-conscious,  nor 
sad  "  — 

"  Upon  my  word,"  —  he  interrupted. 

"  Hush.  Sit  at  your  ease  in  yonder  big  chair,  and 
look  as  you  once  looked  at  the  mountains  —  as  if 
you  wanted  the  best  thing  in  the  world,  and  had 
made  up  your  mind  to  have  it." 

His  face  changed  marvelously  as  she  looked. 

"  Miss  Ward ! "  he  exclaimed  impulsively,  "  I  be 
lieve  I  can  tell  you  —  though  it  isn't  as  yet  so  much 
a  question  of  will  as  of  hope.  It  may  never  be  more 
than  that "  —  a  slight  shadow  rippled  over  his  mobile 
face  —  "  but  she  is  the  dearest,  the  cleverest,  little 
woman  "  — 

"  I  congratulate  you  with  all  my  heart,  Mr.  Cole 
man,"  said  Esther,  moving  toward  him  with  out 
stretched  hand,  and  a  reflection  of  his  own  mood  in 
the  gladness  of  her  eyes  and  the  faint  flush  on  her 
round  cheeks,  "  and  I  believe  that  your  hope  will  be 
fulfilled." 

He  held  her  hand  for  half  a  minute  in  silence. 
"  I  knew  you  would  be  glad  for  me,"  he  said  simply. 

Then  there  was  a  longer  silence,  not  of  constraint, 
but  sympathy,  as  Esther  painted  with  steady  hand, 
and  Bertrand  Coleman  mused  on  his  heart's  desire. 


104  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WOELD 

Esther  at  last  laid  down  her  brush,  and  standing 
off  from  the  picture  studied  it  critically  for  some 
moments. 

"  Come.  Stand  here  and  judge  for  yourself,"  she 
said  to  her  subject. 

He  rose  and  stood  beside  her.  Then,  turning 
quickly  to  her,  his  face  aglow  with  surprise  and 
pleasure  —  "Miss  Ward,  you  have  done  me  more 
than  justice." 

"  No,  I  have  merely  been  lucky  enough  to  get  you 
in  your  best  mood,"  she  answered.  "  The  picture 
needs  many  finishing  touches  yet ;  but  I  have 
achieved  the  heart  of  it  today.  I  am  well  satisfied." 

She  spoke  with  cause.  It  was  indeed  the  speak 
ing  likeness  of  the  singularly  handsome  man  beside 
her. 

Taken  in  a  less  fortunate  mood,  the  darkness  of 
the  coloring  and  the  strength  of  the  features  would 
have  made  the  face  in  repose  a  thought  too  stern  or 
sad.  As  it  was,  the  large,  lustrous,  deep-set  gray 
eyes,  full  of  reverent  tenderness,  softened  the  com 
manding  brow,  and  the  gentleness  of  the  lips  about 
to  smile  at  some  happy  fancy  modified  the  promi 
nent,  strong-willed  chin. 

He  turned  away  presently,  laughing  at  himself 
for  his  undisguised  satisfaction. 

"  At  least  it  is  due  to  you,  the  artist,  to  say  that 
you  are  making  a  splendid  picture." 

"  And  to  you  that  you  have  given  me  a  splendid 
subject" 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  105 

Whereat  both  laughed  like  a  pair  of  happy  chil 
dren  ;  and  though  Esther  showed  no  disposition 
to  resume  work,  Bertrand  Coleman  showed  none  to 
depart. 

He  laughed  again,  though  with  a  slight,  almost 
boyish  constraint,  as  if  wanting  to  return  to  a  more 
intimate  topic,  and  half  ashamed  to  do  so. 

"  Isn't  it  your  friend,  Jack  Holm  wood,  who  says 
that  a  man  in  love  is  nothing  but  a  gibbering  idiot  ?  " 

Esther  smiled. 

"  Poor  Jack !  his  confessed  experience  of  fair 
ladies  has  made  him  rather  cynical.  But  if  I  had 
seen  the  slightest  expression  of  fatuity  on  the  part 
of  my  subject,  I  should  at  once  have  discontinued 
the  sitting." 

"  Well,  I  am  not  prepared  to  say  that  I  am  in 
love  —  in  hope  would  be  a  better  word,"  he  rejoined. 
"  Nothing  is  settled  —  it  may  be  that  nothing  ever 
will  be  settled  between  us  two.  There  are  difficul 
ties,  obstacles,  on  which  I  cannot  touch  at  present " 
—  he  hesitated  —  Esther  was  listening  intently, 
gravely,  kindly. 

"  But  you  know  how  you  want  it  settled  ?  "  she 
ventured,  as  he  came  to  a  full  pause. 

"  Perhaps  we  want  what  would  be  eventual  sor 
row  for  us  both,"  he  rejoined.  "  She  is  only  in  her 
early  twenties,  many,  many  years  younger  than  I. 
Of  course,"  he  added,  brightening,  "  she  is  very 
mature  for  her  years." 


106  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

"  And  you  are  young  for  yours,  Mr.  Coleman." 

"  Oh,  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  stalwart,  hearty  man,  with  your  repu 
tation  made  while  you  are  able  to  get  the  good 
of  it ;  with  a  strong  probability  of  twenty  years  of 
pleasure  in  your  work,  in  your  home  —  in  travel." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  have  never  had  so  much  as  a 
headache  in  all  my  life,  unless  "  —  with  a  slight 
gleam  of  mischief  in  his  eyes  —  "  when  it  was  my 
own  fault." 

"You  look  as  strong  as  an  oak-tree,  as  Boyle 
O'Eeilly  would  say,"  responded  Esther.  Then, 
"  Jane  knows,  of  course." 

"  Well,  broadly  speaking,"  he  answered,  "  Jane 
knows  everything.  But  she  is  rather  cold  to  my 
—  friend." 

Esther  pulled  out  some  pencil  sketches  from  a 
portfolio  near  her. 

"  My  rough  drafts,"  she  said,  "  of  a  picture  I  want 
to  make  of  the  story  of  the  martyr,  St.  Dorothea. 
She  sent  her  Pagan  lover  flowers  from  Paradise,  to 
convince  him  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  and 
the  reality  of  the  heaven  for  which  she  had  given 
up  earthly  happiness.  That  is  the  climax  of  the 
legend,  and  will  be  the  central  idea  of  my  picture, 
with  an  attempt  to  show  the  saint  in  glory.  I 
will  show  her  trial  and  her  martyrdom  in  far  per 
spective, —  smaller  scenes  in  the  upper  corners  of  the 
picture,  after  the  manner  of  Eoselli's  Last  Supper. 
You  remember  it  in  the  Sistine  Chapel? 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  107 

"  But  pardon  this  digression  —  I  am  telling  you 
about  my  picture,  when  I  only  set  out  to  say  that 
if  St.  Dorothea  lived  again,  and  condescended  to 
your  suit,  your  devoted  sister  would  have  felt  that 
St.  Agnes  or  St.  Cecilia  had  been  worthier  of  your 
aspiration.  We  women  are  all  like  that.  No  one 
can  please  us  in  our  brothers'  wives." 

"  You  would  have  been  different,  Miss  Ward. 
You  are  so  sensible." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  In  Joe's  case, 
to  be  sure,  I  hardly  knew  of  his  acquaintance  with 
his  future  wife  till  they  were  engaged.  I  was 
in  Europe  when  it  all  happened.  So  there  was 
nothing  to  do  but  bring  her  a  wedding  gift  from 
Paris,  and  make  the  best  of  it." 

"  You  would  have  done  that,  anyhow.  You  would 
surely  have  done  the  kindly  thing  by  your  brother," 
he  persisted  earnestly. 

Esther  flushed  faintly ;  but  her  subject  was 
looking  beyond  her  at  his  own  fine  counterfeit  pre 
sentment. 

"  We  first  met  her  at  the  Mountains,  nearly  two 
summers  ago,"  he  continued,  meditatively.  "Cir 
cumstances  brought  us  into  very  close  association. 
Her  mother,  who  was  with  her,  met  with  a  serious 
accident.  I  was  able  to  be  serviceable.  Jane  — 
she  is  a  host  in  herself  in  such  emergencies  —  was 
very  kind.  You  know  how  acquaintanceship  grows 
into  friendship  in  a  week  or  two  under  such  con- 


108  THE  "WAY  OF  THE   WOKLD 

ditions.  She  seemed  so  young  and  helpless  there 
among  strangers.  She  clung  so  to  Jane  —  yes,  and 
depended  so  much  on  me,  too. 

"  Well,  we  parted  ;  of  course  making  her  promise 
to  let  us  know  how  her  mother's  case  progressed. 
That  brought  some  correspondence.  She  wrote  us 
both ;  but  oftener  to  Jane,  in  the  beginning.  Now," 
he  smiled  happily,  "  things  have  changed,  and  it  is 
quite  the  other  way.  One  of  my  hopes  in  going  to 
the  Mountains  last  summer  was  that  she  and  her 
mother  would  come  again.  They  expected  to,  but 
something  happened." 

Esther  was  suddenly  conscious  of  a  strong  light 
on  past  happenings,  which  at  the  time  had  puzzled 
her;  notably  Mr.  Coleman's  extreme  restlessness 
and  palpable  anxiety  during  that  last  week  at  the 
Chouteau  the  previous  summer ;  as  well  as  certain 
remarks  of  Jane's  on  accidents  which  were  "  on  pur 
pose,"  the  disadvantage  of  mothers-in-law,  etc. 

She  gave  no  sign,  however,  to  her  companion,  who, 
rallying  from  his  momentary  abstraction,  continued : 

"Jane  would  like  me  to  marry  a  brilliant  society 
woman.  My  little  friend  is  too  young,  she  thinks, 
too  unsophisticated.  She  fears  that  her  heart  is  less 
interested  in  me  than  her  ambition,  and  believes 
that  her  mother  is  urging  the  girl  into  making  what 
she  considers  an  advantageous  settlement.  Just  as 
if  the  poor  child  would  not  have  many  sacrifices 
to  make  in  binding  her  life  with  a  life  like  mine. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  109 

I  think  Jane  is  mistaken  in  her  estimate  of  the 
mother." 

He  looked  inquiringly  at  Esther,  evidently  want 
ing  a  word  of  reassurance. 

"  Jane  is  a  very  devoted  sister,  Mr.  Coleman,  and 
her  advice  ought  not  to  he  dismissed  lightly." 

"  Jane  is  the  best  sister  a  man  ever  had,"  he 
answered  warmly.  "I  would  be  an  ungrateful 
wretch  if  I  didn't  consider  her.  I  have  seen  my 
friend  and  her  mother  once  in  their  own  home 
since  last  fall.  As  I  have  intimated,  there  are  dif 
ficulties.  Till  these  are  bridged,  if  they  can  be 
bridged,  there  can  be  no  pledge  between  us.  But  I 
wish  you  had  met  my  friend  yourself.  That  was  one 
reason  why  I  was  so  anxious  for  her  coming  —  be 
cause  you  were  with  us.  I  am  sure  you  would  have 
judged  her  as  I  do.  She  is  so  clever,  so  well-read, 
so  womanly,  as  I  have  told  you  ;  beautiful,  too,  and 
so  kindly  and  simple  and  devout.  Then  she  is  so 
sensible.  Why,  I  can  talk  to  her  just  as  I  talk  to 
you!" 

Esther  did  not  lift  her  eyes,  lest  Mr.  Coleman 
should  see  the  slight  gleam  of  amusement  in  them. 
She  was  thinking  of  Jack  Holmwood's  cynicism  — 
"  How  good,  how  intellectual,  how  beautiful  our  best 
girl  always  is  ! " 

"  I  know  you  will  like  her,"  continued  the  man 
who  was  not  in  love,  but  in  hope.  "I  hope  you 
and  she  will  be  friends  by-and-by ;  that  is,  if  this 
matter  comes  to  anything." 


110  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

"  It  will  come  to  something,  and  I  will  surely  be 
her  friend,  if  she  will  have  me  for  a  friend,"  said 
Esther,  demurely. 

"  Of  course  she  will !  Who  wouldn't  ? "  cried 
Bertrand  Coleman  warmly. 

Esther  was  looking  at  him  with  a  strange  light  in 
her  eyes. 

"  Mr.  Coleman,"  she  said,  timidly,  "  did  you  ever 
know  Mr.  Arthur  Esmond  ? " 

The  question  struck  him  at  the  moment  as  sin 
gularly  irrelevant.  "  I  can't  remember  any  one  of 
the  name,"  he  said  absently. 

Then  recovering  his  interest,  as  he  reverted  to  the 
subject  nearest  his  heart :  "  I  am  going  to  Cleveland 
in  June.  My  little  friend  lives  there.  But  —  upon 
my  word  it  is  quarter  past  six,  and  Major  Me  Alpine 
coming  to  dine  with  us  !  I  shall  have  something  to 
do  to  make  my  peace  with  Jane." 

"Perhaps  Major  McAlpine  will  help  you,"  sug 
gested  Esther. 

"  That's  so,"  said  the  stupid  man  in  hope,  "  they 
do  get  on  very  well  together ;  and  I  wonder  at  it,  for 
Jane  is  a  bit  of  a  Puritan.  Now,  if  it  were  Tom 
Wallace"  — 

"'The  man  without  a  redeeming  weakness,'  as 
Jack  Holmwood  says,"  laughed  Esther.  And  they 
both  laughed  at  the  vision  of  Priscilla  and  Parson 
Steadfast,  which  the  words  called  up. 

Mr.  Coleman  turned  back  from  the  hallway. 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  Ill 

"I  have  never  spoken  of  this  matter  to  anyone 
except  my  sister  and  yourself." 

"  It  stays  right  here  with  me,  Mr.  Coleman,"  said 
Esther,  gently. 

"  I  am  sure  of  that,"  he  responded,  taking  her 
hand  again  into  his  strong,  warm  grasp.  "  Good-by 
till  Friday,  unless  you  should  need  me  sooner." 

As  he  walked  across  the  park  with  his  long, 
quick  stride,  he  thought  with  a  curious  kindness  — 
permitted,  of  course,  to  a  man  who  was  still  only 
"in  hope" — of  his  late  confidante  and  her  brave 
struggle,  single-handed,  against  adverse  fortune ;  of 
her  sympathy  with  him,  her  loyalty  to  Jane,  her 
success  with  his  portrait.  But  he  thought  no  more 
of  her  irrelevant  question  that  evening,  nor  for  many 
evenings  thereafter. 

Jane's  pretty  pale  blue  gown  was  just  three 
shades  lighter  than  her  pretty  bright  blue  eyes,  and 
suited  admirably  her  delicate  complexion  and  her 
curly  hair  of  childish  softness  and  fineness. 

But  when  her  brother  told  her  all  this,  in  his 
blandest  accents,  her  smile  was  fainter  than  usual. 

"  You  are  very  late,  Bertrand ;  Miss  Ward  should 
not  have  kept  you  so  long." 

"  Please  ma'am,  I  stayed,"  said  the  amiable 
brother,  penitently.  "  Miss  Ward  gave  me  leave  to 
come  home  an  hour  ago." 

Jane  said  nothing  ;  but  there  was  polite  incredu 
lity  in  the  slight  elevation  of  her  prettily  arched 
eyebrows. 


112  THE   WAY   OF  THE  WORLD 

Major  Me  Alpine  was  late,  also.  It  was  a  way  he 
had. 

"You'll  be  late  for  your  own  wedding,  Major," 
said  Mr.  Jones  to  him  one  day. 

"  Please  God,  I  won't  be  there  at  all,"  responded 
the  Major. 

But  he  came  at  last  to  Mr.  Coleman's,  profuse  of 
apologies,  as  was  also  his  way ;  and  made  himself 
so  agreeable  to  his  host,  and  so  charming  to  his 
hostess,  by  his  evident  enjoyment  of  her  excellent 
dinner  and  his  well-timed  personal  compliments, 
that  her  slight  annoyance  was  for  the  time  for 
gotten. 

"  Major  McAlpine,  I  abhor  flattery ; "  —  she  felt 
this  much  of  a  protest  her  duty. 

"  So  do  I,  my  dear  Miss  Coleman.  I  have  too 
much  respect  for  you  to  offer  you  anything  but  the 
truth.  Gold  bricks  or  counterfeit  coin  for  you ! 
You  would  detect  them  with  your  eyes  shut." 

Her  brother  followed  the  Major's  lead,  till  between 
the  two  the  prim  little  maiden's  cheeks  were  of  the 
exact  shade  of  pink  that  went  well  with  her  gown. 

Nevertheless,  she  went  to  sleep  that  night  with 
a  faint  misgiving  that  Esther,  for  all  her  intellect, 
wasn't  a  bit  more  to  be  trusted  with  a  marriageable 
man  than  several  other  dressy  and  frivolous  widows 
and  maidens  whom  it  might  be  invidious  to  name. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  113 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

THE   CLOUD   IN   THE   EAST. 

MEANTIME  Esther  having  dined  in  solitary  state 
and  written  one  of  those  long  tri-weekly  letters,  re 
tired  to  the  privacy  of  her  chamber,  slipped  into  a 
white  negligee,  lit  two  gas-jets,  sat  down  before  the 
mirror,  and  releasing  her  hair  from  restraining  combs 
and  pins,  shook  it  out  in  all  its  length  and  abun 
dance. 

Thick  and  soft,  it  was  utterly  innocent  of  curl  or 
wave,  and  framed  in  its  dense,  dark  abundance,  her 
face  tonight  looked  very  pale. 

She  gazed  at  herself  long,  critically,  dispassion 
ately. 

"  And  I  am  so  sensible  ! "  she  said  half-aloud.  "  I 
wonder  if  he  ever  tells  the  Signorina  Ignota  how 
sensible  she  is!  I  wonder  if  Arthur  will  tell  me 
how  sensible  I  am,  when  we  meet  again.  He  has 
not  complimented  me  on  that  especial  quality  since 
he  has  known  me.  Perhaps  I've  improved.  One 
changes  a  good  deal  for  better  or  worse  in  three 
years.  I've  changed  in  one  way  certainly,  and  not 
for  the  better"  —  with  a  still  severer  scrutiny  of 
her  reflection  in  the  mirror. 


114  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

She  forgot,  I  suppose,  that  the  EXPRESSION  of 
rigorous  scrutiny  does  not  improve  even  the  softest 
and  loveliest  of  faces. 

Hers  was  a  face  that  nature  had  meant  to  be 
round,  rather  than  long ;  for  consistency  with  her 
scarcely  medium  height,  and  small  but  compact 
and  well-rounded  figure. 

But  she  was  getting  thin  and  worn  now,  and  her 
face  was  losing  its  softness.  The  large  hazel  eyes 
had  the  feverish  brightness  of  insomnia,  and  looked 
hollow,  deep-shadowed  and  fateful.  The  mouth  and 
chin  though  not  large  were  always,  when  in  repose, 
just  a  little  too  firm  for  a  woman's  face ;  but  more 
and  more  of  late  had  they  taken  on  the  repressed 
look  of  one  who  has  sad  secrets  to  keep. 

A  smile,  with  the  flash  of  the  small,  even,  white 
teeth,  changed  her  face  wonderfully ;  but  Esther 
seldom  smiled  of  late,  when  she  was  alone  with  her 
own  thoughts. 

"  Esther  Ward,"  she  said  again,  looking  steadfastly 
into  those  sad  and  somber  eyes,  "you  should  be  pic 
tured  for  some  creature  predestined  to  sorrowful 
fate,  and  in  some  sort,  conscious  of  it. 

"  '  With  steadfast  eyes  and  unprotesting  lips 
Drifting  to  an  inevitable  doom.' 

"  If  I  were  a  man,  I  couldn't  love  a  woman  with 
eyes  like  yours.  I  wouldn't  want  your  shadow  to 
cross  my  life. 

"  Will  Arthur  notice  the  change  ?     When  first  he 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  115 

spoke  your  name  — '  Esther ! '  he  said,  '  it  doesn't 
quite  fit  you.  It  should  have  been  Ruth.  You 
have  the  sweet  and  gentle  and  trustful  look  that 
goes  with  it.  Ruth  would  have  been  all  love,  but 
Esther  had  room  in  her  heart  for  justice,  too.' 

"  What  name  would  he  find  to  fit  you  now  ? 

"  A  woman  is  hard  to  love  who  has  lost  her  little 
womanly  fears,  who  never  cries  any  more,  who  can 
live  and  work  with  all  the  safety-valves  of  her  heart 
shut. 

"  Was  I  right  to  tell  him  so  little  about  Ned  ?  No 
word  from  him  since  March.  Any  day  Arthur  may 
see  some  horror  about  him  in  the  papers.  Mr.  Cole- 
man  made  so  little  of  poor  Ned's  doings.  '  We  all 
have  brothers,'  he  said.  I  think  Mr.  Coleman  has 
learned  mercy  by  his  own  blunders.  Would  Arthur 
have  taken  it  that  way  ?  He  cares  so  much  about 
respectability.  He  never  did  a  wrong  thing  in  his 
life.  If  we  had  been  engaged  before  he  went  away, 
I  might  have  said  more.  But  to  write  all  those 
dreadful  things !  Up  to  this  last  affair  I  had  some 
little  hope  of  Ned.  Poor,  poor  Ned !  God  knows 
in  what  shame  or  sorrow  he  is  tonight!" 

She  opened  her  locket  and  looked  longingly  at 
the  ring  it  enshrined. 

"  I  wish  he  had  bade  me  wear  it,  after  all,"  she 
sighed. 

It  had  never  until  today  occurred  to  her  to  doubt 
the  wisdom  of  her  lover  on  this  point.  Half  the 


116  THE   WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 

width  of  the  world  had  been  between  them  since 
their  engagement.  Both  were  of  reticent  nature. 
Both  had  passed  their  first  youth,  and  realized  how 
life's  uncertainties  are  multiplied  by  distance  and 
long  separation. 

Even  had  the  thought  come  to  her  earlier,  she 
would  hardly  have  told  it  to  Arthur  Esmond. 
Women  there  are  who,  once  serious  things  have 
been  spoken,  as  to  love  and  marriage,  can  urge  their 
convenience,  their  pride  or  hope  or  fear  on  the  man 
whom  they  love.  Esther  was  not  of  these. 

"  After  all,"  she  mused,  "  the  time  is  very  short 
now.  I  shall  be  away  for  the  most  of  it.  Whom 
should  my  engagement  concern,  anyhow  ?  It  isn't 
like  me  to  want  to  tell  any  one  my  personal  affairs ; 
yet,  if  Mr.  Coleman  had  given  me  any  encourage 
ment,  I  would  have  told  him.  Is  the  giving  of  con 
fidence  infectious  ?  After  all,  perhaps,  it  is  better 
that  I  said  nothing.  I  have  told  Arthur  that  Mr. 
Coleman  has  been  a  true  friend  to  me  and  mine. 
When  he  returns  I  can  tell  him  in  what  way.  How 
surprised  my  friends  here  will  be  to  know  of  my 
engagement !  Mrs.  Willow  will  be  enchanted.  Dear 
little  woman!  She  has  been  so  happy  herself,  it 
never  occurs  to  her  that  there  are  any  misfits  in 
holy  matrimony.  She  devoutly  believes  that  all 
the  marriages  of  Catholics  are  minutely  planned  out 
by  the  angels. 

"  And  Jane  Coleman  —  but  it  will  be  hard   for 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  117 

me  to  make  it  right  with  her  for  not  telling  her 
sooner. 

"  By  that  time,  however,  if  all  signs  don't  fail,  she 
will  have  her  brother's  marriage  on  her  hands. 

"  I  hope  the  fair  unknown  is  really  as  nice  as  he 
believes  her  to  be.  I  should  grieve  to  have  him 
disappointed. 

"  But  a  girl  in  her  early  twenties !  Arthur  is  a 
little  younger  than  Mr.  Coleman,  and  only  seven 
years  older  than  I. 

"  Perhaps  I  won't  look  so  sad  and  worn-out  after 
my  vacation.  Perhaps  I  shall  sleep  after  I  get  away 
from  here. 

"  There's  nothing  very  bridelike  about  me  now. 
And  yet  I  shall  be  Arthur  Esmond's  wife  with  the 
New  Year. 

"  A  fig  for  your  presentiments,  Esther  Ward ! 
What  if  they  have  always  come  true  ?  They  won't 
this  time.  God  will  give  you  a  little  taste  of  hap 
piness.  No,  He  won't  let  the  cup  be  dashed  from 
your  lips  just  as  it  touches  them. 

"What  are  you  afraid  of?  Haven't  you  just 
been  told  that  you  are  a  sensible  woman  ?  Are 
not  'reasonable,'  '  clear-headed,' '  well-balanced,'  your 
descriptive  terms  among  your  men  friends,  anyhow  ? 

"Have  you  not  been  told  that  all  your  passion 
and  imagination  have  gone  into  the  artist  ? 

"  And  here  you  are  worrying  about  your  looks, 
indulging  in  nerves,  and  —  yes  —  I  really  believe  it, 
wanting  to  have  a  good  cry. 


118  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WOULD 

"  Well,  you  shan't  have  it,  for  then  you  would  go 
to  pieces,  and  you  have  too  much  work  ahead  for 
tomorrow  for  any  such  nonsense. 

"  There !  say  your  prayers  and  go  to  bed." 
But  Esther's  prayers  were  wofully  distracted  that 
night,  and  she  kept  a  long  vigil.  Towards  morning 
she  went  off  into  a  light  sleep.  She  dreamed  she 
stood  in  a  luxuriant  forest,  with  flowers  on  every 
side,  the  genial  sunshine  sifting  through  the  boughs, 
and  a  soft  breeze  fluttering  them.  Suddenly  the  sky 
darkened,  a  cold  wind  blew  from  the  north,  every 
leaf  dropped  to  the  earth,  and  every  flower  died, 
as  if  a  blight  had  touched  it. 

"  Miss  Ward,  I  hope  you  haven't  got  your  death 
of  cold,"  said  Ellen  the  housekeeper,  as  she  entered 
her  room  to  open  the  shutters.  "  Here  are  both 
windows  wide  open.  It  has  turned  cold  again,  and 
it's  raining  heavily  now ;  and  Miss  Ward,  you  forgot 
and  left  both  your  blessed  candles  burning  last 
night  in  your  study." 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  119 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

BEKTEAND   COLEMAN'S   MISGIVING. 

BEKTKAND  COLEMAN  had  three  more  sittings  before 
his  portrait  was  completed ;  but  Jack  Holm  wood 
came  in  the  capacity  of  critic,  and  at  Esther's  re 
quest,  for  the  first  of  these ;  and  Jane  brought  Mrs. 
Kay  and  Mrs.  Willow  to  the  second,  and  accom 
panied  her  brother  herself  to  the  final  one,  so  that 
the  prospect  of  a  resumption  of  the  late  confidential 
conversation  between  the  artist  and  her  subject 
before  the  former's  departure,  seemed  slight. 

Jane,  however,  excused  herself  soon  after  she  saw 
Esther  fairly  at  work,  for  an  engagement  with  her 
dressmaker,  who  had  outrageously  delayed  her  on 
the  new  summer  silk  which  she  was  getting  for  the 
reception  with  which  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula 
always  closed  their  season's  work. 

Jane  would  rather  have  stayed,  if  for  no  other 
reason  than  that  the  afternoon  was  warm  and  the 
studio  was  delightfully  cool ;  but  she  had  always 
appeared  in  a  new  gown  at  the  function  above- 
named  ;  and  this  year,  of  all  years,  she  would  not 
be  justified  in  a  departure  from  precedent. 

She  said  she  would  come  right  back  to  the  studio, 


120  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

to  be  home  with  her  brother  to  dinner ;  and  she 
invited  Esther  to  join  them,  in  honor  of  the  comple 
tion  of  the  portrait. 

But  when  the  friends  were  alone  they  seemed  in 
no  haste  to  avail  themselves  of  the  opportunity 
which  both  had  been  desiring. 

It  was  Esther's  way  to  let  her  friends  take  the 
initiative,  in  conversation  on  their  own  affairs. 
That  was  what  made  her  a  favorite  confidante  of 
all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men  and  women.  She 
always  apparently  forgot  what  you  had  told  her, 
until  you  gave  her  leave  to  remember  it,  by  resum 
ing  the  subject  yourself. 

And  Bertrand  Coleman  had  been  diverted  even 
from  his  dominant  thought,  by  the  sudden  conscious 
ness  of  a  great  change  in  Esther. 

It  was  a  change  indefinable,  too ;  not  consisting 
altogether  in  the  dwindling  of  her  heretofore  trim 
womanliness  of  figure  to  childlike  smallness  ;  nor  in 
her  loss  of  color ;  for  both  of  these  had  been  gradual. 

It  was  rather  the  change  in  her  manner,  from  the 
old-time  ease  and  cheerful  directness  and  alertness, 
to  a  curious  timidity  and  depression,  from  which  she 
rallied  herself  with  manifest  effort. 

He  often  had  said  of  Esther  that  she  was  devoid 
of  self-consciousness  beyond  any  woman  of  his 
acquaintance ;  that  her  manners  had  the  ease  and 
simplicity  of  the  best  breeding ;  that  she  had  not  a 
trace  of  artistic  eccentricity  or  vanity. 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  121 

What  was  it  ?  Even  as  he  looked  at  her,  forget 
ting  himself  for  a  moment  in  the  concentration  of 
painful  interest,  her  face,  which  was  half  turned 
from  him  as  she  touched  the  picture  here  and  there, 
flushed  uneasily  under  his  eyes,  and  when  presently 
he  spoke  she  started  as  if  she  had  been  struck. 

"  I  think  you  need  a  long  rest,"  he  said,  kindly. 

"  I  shall  have  it,"  she  answered.  "  I  sail  for 
Europe  on  the  thirtieth,  to  be  gone  till  the  last  of 
September." 

"  Good  !  "  he  exclaimed  cheerfully.  "  You  have 
just  got  to  that  degree  of  nervous  fatigue  that  you 
would  probably  break  down  a  little  unless  you  had 
a  decided  change." 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed !  I  am  never  ill ;  but  I  suppose 
I  am  pretty  tired.  I  ought  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Cole- 
man,"  she  continued,  "that  this  is  not  a  pleasure 
trip.  Under  present  circumstances  that  could  not 
be.  I  am  going  with  Mrs.  Mint,  to  render  her  some 
services." 

"  Why  should  you  not  take  a  pleasure  trip  ? "  he 
exclaimed.  "  I  hope  you  are  not  letting  that 
wretched  little  business  matter  weigh  on  your  mind, 
or  imagining  that  I  ever  think  of  it.  By  the  way, 
have  you  had  any  news  of  your  brother  ?  You  will 
understand,  my  dear  Miss  Ward,  that  it  is  not  for 
lack  of  interest  in  your  affairs  that  I  haven't  made 
this  inquiry  sooner." 

"  I  have  understood,  Mr.  Coleman,  and  appreciated 


122  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

your  delicate  consideration,"  she  answered.  "  I  have 
had  no  news  of  Ned  since  that  day  —  you  remember." 

She  was  facing  him  now,  the  right  hand,  still 
holding  the  brush,  upraised  slightly,  and  he  noticed 
sadly  what  a  very  white,  thin  little  hand  it  was. 

"  Mr.  Coleman,"  she  spoke  diffidently  and  as  with 
effort,  "  if  you  were  me,  would  you  feel  honorably 
bound  to  tell  —  any  one  —  about  Ned  ? " 

Now  Mr.  Coleman  was  never  more  in  his  element, 
even  outside  of  his  profession,  than  in  giving  advice. 
The  role  of  guide  and  counsellor  was  second  nature 
to  him. 

So,  though  he  felt  a  slight  surprise  at  the  question, 
as  coming  from  a  woman  so  reserved  as  Esther,  he 
answered  without  hesitation : 

"  My  dear  Miss  Ward,  there  isn't  the  slightest 
reason  why  any  one  here  should  know  of  your 
brother's  weaknesses,  in  addition  to  those  who  al 
ready  know  them :  yourself  and  your  brother  Joseph, 
and  I  as  a  friend  who  was  glad  to  be  of  service  to 
you.  I  can't  imagine  how  they  should  concern  any 
one  else." 

"  Not  any  one  ?  "  she  persisted. 

"  Indeed,  no,  my  dear  friend ;  the  fewer  people  who 
know  anything  of  our  family  affairs,  the  better,"  he 
answered  soothingly,  seeing  her  manifest  agitation ; 
but  he  was  puzzled,  and  rather  unpleasantly. 

He  liked  Esther  too  well,  however,  and  he  was  too 
kindly  and  honorable  a  man  to  entertain  a  suspicion 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  123 

of  any  friend  without  the  strongest  evidence.  That 
Esther's  anxiety  should  be  founded  in  a  love  affair 
was  hardly  to  be  thought  of.  He  had  heretofore 
believed  her  wedded  to  her  art. 

He  had  said  to  Jane  more  than  once  that  it  was 
almost  a  pity  it  should  be  so,  but  Jane  had  said  it 
was  all  right.  Everybody  couldn't  get  married ;  and 
how  could  an  artist  or  any  of  these  queer  profes 
sional  women  manage  a  home  and  a  husband,  any 
how  ? 

But  what  meant  this  strange  nervousness  under 
his  friendly  eyes  ?  No,  it  was  impossible.  There 
must  be  some  business  complications. 

"  Kemember,  Miss  Ward,"  he  said,  "  that  if  there 
is  any  way,  personal  or  professional,  in  which  I  can 
serve  you,  I  am  at  your  command.  You  need  have 
no  hesitancy  in  telling  me  even  more  than  I  already 
know  about  your  brother.  Nothing  of  that  sort 
could  impair  my  regard  for  you,  nor  for  that  matter, 
could  make  me  feel  very  hard  to  him,  poor  fellow." 

Her  troubled  face  cleared  a  little. 

"  But  others  might  not  judge  so  kindly,"  she  mur 
mured  ;  "  and  if  anything  more  were  to  happen  "  — 

"  No  friend  worth  having  could  be  influenced  in 
your  regard  by  any  misdeed  or  misfortune  of  your 
brother's,  except  to  a  greater  admiration  for  your 
loyalty  and  devotion. 

She  lifted  her  hand  in  protest,  but  he  went  on 
earnestly. 


124  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

"  Believe  me,  dear  Miss  Ward,  you  are  taking 
your  own  case  as  if  it  were  unique,  instead  of  fairly 
common.  Women  who  themselves  have  not  been 
tried  and  refined  by  sorrow,  may  make  a  nine-days' 
wonder  of  a  man's  discovered  weakness  or  wicked 
ness  ;  but  we  men  of  the  world,  especially  in  my  line 
of  life,  only  wonder  what  has  kept  ourselves  from 
falling  in  the  same  way.  '  But  for  the  grace  of 
God,  there  goes  Francis  de  Sales,'  don't  you  remem 
ber?" 

She  smiled  sadly. 

"For  one  thing,  I  wanted  to  make  it  easy  for 
him  to  start  fresh,"  she  continued.  "  A  man  gets 
discouraged  when  he  knows,  that  his  faults  have  not 
been  covered,  and  that  his  own  are  parading  him  as 
the  returned  Prodigal." 

"You  are  perfectly  right,  Miss  Ward,"  he  said, 
heartily,  "  and  I  am  glad  you  feel  like  that.  Good 
women  often  pull  down  by  their  want  of  patience 
and  reticence  what  they  have  built  up  by  their 
prayers.  For  my  part,  I  wouldn't  be  in  the  least 
surprised  if  your  brother  made  a  man  of  himself 
yet.  He's  young  —  " 

"  Hardly  thirty-two,"  said  Esther. 

"  There's  a  generous  and  rather  reckless  streak  in 
him,  too,"  said  Bertrand  Coleman,  musingly.  "  He 
is  just  the  sort  of  man  who  redeems  a  foolish  life 
with  a  heroic  death,  and  sets  the  virtuous  plod 
ders  who  scorned  him,  to  blushing  for  their  own 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  125 

cowardice.  Indeed,  Miss  Ward,  you  will  never 
have  cause  to  regret  your  prudence  in  this  matter. 
For  one  thing  that  is  hurt  by  silence,  ten  thousand 
are  destroyed  by  speech.  Perhaps  I  have  learned 
forbearance  by  my  own  experience,"  he  continued, 
gravely.  "  There  was  a  time  when  my  nearest  and 
dearest,  all  but  one,  lost  faith  in  me,  and  with  cause. 
If  that  one,  who  is  a  saint  in  heaven  today,  had  not 
hoped  against  hope,  and  run  the  most  generous  risk 
a  woman  can  for  the  man  she  loves,  I  should  be 
now  in  a  dishonored  grave." 

Esther  had  never  heard  him  mention  his  dead 
wife  before.  He  spoke  with  unmistakable  fervor 
and  feeling.  She  realized,  however,  that  he  dimly 
apprehended  her  own  difficulty. 

It  was  not  easy  to  suggest  a  possible  similarity 
between  the  case  of  a  woman  on  earth  and  a  saint 
in  heaven. 

"  But  if  a  woman  were  handicapped  by  some 
family  —  disadvantage  ?  " 

"  Bless  my  soul !  A  man  marries  the  woman,  not 
her  family;  but,"  laughing  a  little,  "Jane  holds  a 
contrary  opinion ;  you  cannot  but  notice  that  moth 
ers-in-law,  for  example,  are  very  much  on  her  mind 
these  days." 

Esther  smiled  faintly.  She  felt  that  her  case 
was  adjourned  in  this  especial  court,  without  a 
day. 

"My — friend  and  her  mother  will  be  at  Man- 


126  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

chester-by-the-Sea  for  July,  August  and  September. 
I  cannot  say  that  our  prospect  is  more  favorable, 
but  at  least  I  shall  see  her  often  this  summer. 
Perhaps  it  is  best  for  both,  if  things  fall  out  con 
trary  to  my  hope.  At  least  I  shall  try  to  see  it  so," 
he  said. 

Then  after  a  moment's  hesitation  he  told  Esther 
the  obstacle;  and  she  marvelled  no  longer  that 
these  two  were  still  unpledged. 

"  There  has  been  no  talk  of  our  affairs  here,  fortu 
nately,"  he  concluded.  "  Nothing  is  more  painful 
nor  often  more  mischievous  than  gossip  about  an 
unsettled  matter  of  this  kind." 

"  It  must  be  awful  —  for  the  woman,"  said 
Esther,  with  a  little  shudder. 

"  What,  all  done  now  but  the  varnishing  !  Well, 
here  is  Jane,  and  we'll  all  go  home  to  dinner  to 
gether." 

They  met  no  more  till  Esther  stood  on  the  deck 
of  the  "  New  Amsterdam,"  the  centre  of  the  gay  lit 
tle  crowd  who  had  come  to  wish  her  a  happy  voyage. 
Her  stateroom  was  filled  with  flowers  and  dainties 
of  various  kinds.  A  sheaf  of  letters  were  handed 
her  from  friends  who  could  not  come  to  see  her  off ; 
and  she  received  as  many  more  by  the  tug,  just 
before  they  steamed  out  of  the  harbor.  Mrs.  Mint 
was  proud  of  her. 

Mrs.  Jones  encountered  the  returning  procession, 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  127 

with  Bertrand  Coleman  and  his  sister  in  the  lead. 
She  "  had  not  bowed  down,"  as  she  phrased  it. 

"  Why,  you'd  think  it  was  the  Governor's  wife," 
said  she  bitterly  to  Mrs.  Wise,  who  had  also  been 
intent  on  reconciliation  with  Mrs.  Mint. 

"  Who  can  tell  ?  "  said  that  little  lady.  "  We  all 
want  the  favor  of  the  future  Mrs.  So-and-so,  any 
how  ! " 

"  It's  just  as  well  not  to  give  it  a  name,"  responded 
Mrs.  Jones,  grimly. 


128  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 


CHAPTEE   XV. 

DANGEROUS   DELAYS. 

IT  was  a  delightful  voyage,  under  cloudless  skies 
nearly  all  the  way,  and  in  cheerful  company ;  and 
by  the  time  it  was  half  done,  Esther  was  sufficiently 
tranquillized  not  to  turn  white  when  she  encoun 
tered  the  little  bugle-boy,  as  if  he  were  a  telegraph 
messenger  pursuing  her  with  tidings  of  disaster. 

It  was  harder,  however,  to  fight  off  the  recurrence 
of  nervous  apprehension  in  the  strenuous  atmosphere 
of  London,  but  she  was  a  strong-willed  woman ;  she 
had,  moreover,  a  definite  purpose  in  her  trip,  and  her 
best  thought  and  consideration  were  due,  for  the 
time  being,  to  Mrs.  Mint's  interests. 

That  lady  had  given  her  faithful  Martha  a  furlough, 
so  to  speak.  Martha  had  a  horror  of  the  sea,  and, 
moreover,  a  longing  of  many  years  to  visit  her  only 
brother,  resident  in  Chicago. 

With  Esther  to  help  choose  her  pictures,  and,  as 
a  much  younger  and  more  active  womaa,  and  a  more 
experienced  European  traveler,  to  manage  the  details 
of  the  trip ;  and  a  maid  for  her  personal  service, 
Mrs.  Mint  felt  that  she  could  endure  a  few  months' 
separation  from  her  other  self. 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  129 

I  have  already  told  you  that  Mrs.  Mint  had  a  real 
respect  and  liking  for  Esther,  as  for  a  young  woman 
who  had  made  her  way  by  her  own  honest  effort. 
The  reserve,  which  some  of  us  disliked  in  the  artist, 
was  to  the  oldtime  business  woman  just  decency 
and  common  prudence.  She  had  never  patronized 
Esther  personally,  though  she  had  greatly  encouraged 
and  served  her  by  generous  patronage  of  her  work. 

Esther,  like  Mrs.  Ormond,  always  drew  to  the 
surface  the  best  that  was  in  Mrs.  Mint ;  so  that 
while  the  rich  woman  was  undoubtedly  overbearing 
and  rough,  rather  than  blunt,  with  many  of  the 
ladies  of  our  set,  to  these  two  she  was  merely  a 
plain,  honest,  kindly  woman,  abrupt  at  times,  but 
never  haughty  nor  uncivil ;  interesting,  by  reason  of 
many  out-of-the-way  experiences,  which  she  narrated 
with  energy  and  shrewd  humor;  helpful  and  far- 
seeing,  too,  but  not  ostentatious  of  her  powers  of 
observation,  nor  her  skill  in  character-reading. 

The  travelers  spent  six  weeks  in  England,  chiefly 
in  London ;  and  then  went  over  to  Paris,  where 
Mrs.  Mint's  purchases,  even  outside  of  pictures, 
would  have  filled  the  hearts  of  nearly  all  the  maids 
and  matrons  of  our  set  with  a  despairing  delight 

Esther  bought  her  own  modest  trousseau  during 
Mrs.  Mint's  occasional "  laying-up  for  repairs,"  as  she 
called  those  days  when  her  flesh  and  breathlessness 
came  against  her,  an  1  she  had  to  go  under  the  hands 
of  the  masseuse.  Our  artist  had  wished  chiefly  to 


130  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

evade  Mrs.  Mint's  extravagant  generosity;  though 
unsuccessfully,  if  she  had  but  known  how  that  lady 
utilized  the  first  day  on  which  she  had  laughingly 
expressed  a  desire  not  to  see  her  young  friend  from 
dawn  till  dark. 

Now  that  her  pleasant  task  was  done  she  realized 
that  Mrs.  Mint  was  equal  to  hut  little  exertion,  and 
often  dull  and  heavy-headed  amid  the  liveliest 
scenes  and  on  the  most  agreeably  tempered  summer 
days. 

But  Mrs.  Mint  made  light  of  her  indisposition, 
and  protested  when  Esther  would  bear  her  company 
for  long  hours  indoors. 

They  sat  thus  together  one  lovely  afternoon  in 
mid-September. 

Mrs.  Mint  was  undemonstrative  as  a  rule,  but 
today  she  reached  out  and  drew  Esther's  thin  little 
hand  into  both  her  own  fat  and  heavily  ringed  ones. 

"  You  shouldn't  worry  about  me,  Miss  Ward. 
Indeed,  'twas  I  that  was  fretted  about  your  looks 
before  we  came  away.  At  least  you  haven't  failed 
any  on  my  hands,"  and  she  looked  at  her  with  a 
wistful  kindliness  that  went  to  Esther's  heart. 

"  Indeed,  dear  Mrs.  Mint,  I  was  not  ill  at  all.  I 
never  was  ill  in  my  life.  I've  had  rather  a  hard 
year,  some  little  anxieties  of  my  own,  some  cause 
for  uneasiness,  indeed  ;  but,  thank  God,  nothing  that 
I  feared  has  happened  so  far,  and  I  think  all  will  be 
well  when  we  get  home  again." 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  131 

"  I  hope  soon  to  see  you  a  happier  woman  than 
you  are  now,  my  dear,"  said  the  elder  woman 
gently. 

A  mist  came  over  Esther's  eyes.  For  a  moment 
she  felt  as  if  she  could  tell  much  of  her  past  and  the 
dearest  of  her  prospects  to  this  woman,  with  whom 
she  had  ordinarily  so  little  in  common,  but  who  had 
proved  so  sincere  and  kindly  a  friend.  But  the 
moment  of  grace  passed  for  poor  Esther. 

"  Thank  you,  dear  Mrs.  Mint,"  she  said  softly.  "  I 
will  have  something  to  tell  you  soon  after  we  get 
home." 

"  Kiss  me,"  said  her  friend,  rising  a  little  on  her 
couch ;  "  and  then,  like  a  good  girl,  go  over  to  the 
church  and  say  your  beads  for  me." 

•"So  it's  true!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mint  decisively, 
when  she  was  alone.  She  had  heard,  of  course,  the 
common  rumor,  but  was  too  delicate  withal  to  put 
a  word  to  Esther  about  it.  Now  she  believed  she 
had  confirmation  strong  as  proof  of  Holy  Writ. 
What  else  in  the  world  could  have  made  the  dear 
girl  flush  so  deeply  and  look  so  misty  about  the 
eyes ! 

"  I  hope  she  will  be  happy.  No  one,  nothing, 
is  too  good  for  her,"  she  mused ;  "  the  only  trouble  is 
that  a  woman  of  her  kind  seldom  finds  a  man  who 
can  appreciate  her,  and  if  she  were  unhappy  in  her 
marriage  —  good  heavens,  how  unhappy  she  would 
be!" 


132  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WOELD 

She  rang  for  her  maid,  and  presently  was  exam 
ining  with  a  pleased  smile  the  sparkling  contents  of 
a  rich  case. 

"  I  suppose  he'll  load  her  with  jewelry,  but  he 
will  never  think  of  this." 

It  was  a  necklace  of  fire-opals,  and  they  gleamed 
and  glowed  and  shimmered  flame-color  and  palest 
green  and  gold,  as  she  lifted  it  up  on  her  chubby 
hand. 

The  nearest  church  was  the  Madeleine,  which 
Esther  loved  the  least  —  except  for  the  bronze  sculp 
tures  on  its  great  entrance  doors  —  of  any  of  the 
churches  she  knew  in  Paris. 

But  what  mattered  artistic  preferences  today, 
when  her  soul  longed  for  an  hour  before  the  altar, 
whose  lamp  proclaimed  the  Sacred  Presence  ? 

The  brief  conversation  just  recorded  had  agitated 
her  strangely.  Only  a  month  more  !  She  would  be 
home  the  first  week  in  October,  Arthur  Esmond  a 
fortnight  later.  His  letters  had  followed  her  on 
her  journeying ;  more  numerous,  more  tender  and 
devoted  as  their  long  separation  drew  to  its  end. 

Only  another  month !  None  of  her  forebodings 
had  been  realized.  Joe's  letters,  the  latest  received 
that  morning,  were  cheerful.  No  news  of  Ned,  to 
be  sure ;  but  in  this  case  no  news  might  be  good 
news. 

Oh,  if  it  were  God's  will  that  poor  Ned,  contrite 
and  shriven,  were  at  rest  in  some  quiet  God's  Acre, 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  133 

with  the  pleading  Cross  above  him !  Then  she 
chided  herself  for  the  thought,  and  remembered 
that  Bertrand  Coleman  had  said  that  Ned  might 
make  a  man  of  himself  yet. 

Was  there  a  shadow  from  the  future,  apart  from 
Ned? 

She  loosened  her  locket  before  the  altar,  opened 
it,  and  kissed  her  ring. 

"  What  is  it,"  she  murmured,  "  that  always  tells 
me  I  shall  never  see  it  on  my  finger  ?  What  do  I 
fear  ?  No  misfortune  nor  crime  of  my  poor  brother 
could  ever  come  between  us.  Mr.  Coleman  says 
truly  that  only  silly  women  make  a  nine-days'  won 
der  of  these  things.  What,  then,  can  part  us  but  his 
death  or  mine  ? " 

She  prayed  with  all  her  soul  against  the  strange 
foreboding  which  never  gave  her  respite  in  her 
solitary  waking  hours,  and  transformed  itself  into 
dismal  dreams  when  she  slept. 

In  the  vestibule  she  turned  back  and  lit  a  candle 
to  the  Blessed  Virgin  at  the  marriage  altar,  smiling 
timidly  as  she  did  it. 

"  But  we  call  thee  the  Mother  of  Fair  Love  and 
of  Holy  Hope,"  she  whispered,  and  then  hurried  on 
her  way  to  Mrs.  Mint  with  a  lightened  heart. 

The  maid  met  her  half-way  in  the  corridor. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Ward  —  something  awful  has  hap 
pened  to  Mrs.  Mint !  I  think  it's  a  stroke. 


134  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

Though  Mrs.  Mint's  illness  was  not  of  so  grave  a 
character  as  had  been  proclaimed  by  the  inexperienced 
woman  who  had  almost  stumbled  over  her  mistress' 
prostrate  and  unconscious  form,  it  was,  however, 
serious  enough  to  delay  the  travelers  considerably 
on  their  homeward  journey.  They  were  to  have 
sailed  the  6th  of  October. 

"  She  may  be  able  to  sail  on  the  25th,"  said  the 
physicians  when,  after  ten  days  the  worst  was  over ; 
and  Esther  wrote  accordingly  to  Martha,  and  among 
her  own  friends,  after  her  betrothed  and  her  brother, 
to  Jane  Coleman  and  Mrs.  Willow. 

Except  for  the  sake  of  the  sufferer,  who  was  more 
than  eager  for  home,  Esther  was  little  troubled  by 
this  delay;  for  sailing  on  the  date  specified,  she 
would  still  be  in  time  to  greet  the  arrival  of  her 
lover. 

But  as  the  days  wore  on,  despite  the  best  care 
that  money  could  procure  in  Paris,  it  was  evident 
that  Mrs.  Mint  was  still  unfit  for  the  journey. 
There  was  another  postponement  and  yet  another, 
nor  were  the  travelers  on  their  homebound  steamer 
till  mid-November. 

By  this  time  naturally,  Esther  herself  was  in  a 
fever  of  impatience  concealed  with  difficulty.  Since 
the  letters  timed  to  reach  them  just  before  their 
expected  sailing  in  October,  there  had  been  no 
home  letters,  as  their  return  was  looked  for  by 
every  successive  steamer. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  155 

All  was  well  with  Arthur  Esmond,  however,  up 
to  the  last  moment  possible  for  news,  for  a  cable 
was  brought  her  on  board  the  "  New  Amsterdam," 
announcing  his  arrival  in  the  city  of  her  home, 
which  was  henceforward  to  be  the  home  of  both, 
and  wishing  her  a  happy  voyage. 

While  abroad  she  had  had  two  letters  from 
Bertrand  Coleman,  both  full  of  the  praises  of  his 
"  friend,"  as  he  still  called  her ;  the  second  stating 
that  although  the  way  to  the  fruition  of  his  hopes 
was  not  yet  clear,  it  was  clearing,  and  that  if  not  at 
once  on  her  return,  at  least  soon  after,  he  expected 
to  ask  her  congratulations. 

She  would  have  had  a  third  one  of  a  more  definite 
tenor  had  her  own  movements  been  less  uncertain ; 
for  when  a  progress  towards  a  desired  end  sets  in,  it 
often  makes  up  for  lost  time  by  the  rapidity  of  its 
movement.  On  the  first  of  November  the  engage 
ment  of  Annette  Tremaine  and  Bertrand  Coleman 
was  announced. 

Esther,  however,  re-read  the  letters  she  had  after 
she  had  settled  herself  for  the  return  voyage,  and 
smiled  over  them. 

"  I  wonder  if  he  will  be  surprised  when  I  present 
him  to  another  recipient  of  congratulations.  Jane 
will,  at  all  events.  Why,  there  was  one  day  when 
I  think  she  thought  "  —  and  Esther  flushed  a  little 
yet,  half  with  amusement  and  half  with  an  inexpli 
cable  annoyance,  as  she  recalled  the  circumstances 


136  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

that  led  up  to  her  painting  of  Bertrand  Coleman's 
portrait. 

And  then  the  dim  presentiment  of  evil,  which 
she  had  shaken  off  effectually  during  the  last  few 
days  before  sailing,  returned,  still  formless  and 
vague,  but  more  disquieting  than  ever. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  137 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE   TALK   OF   THE   TOWN. 

WHEN  Arthur  Esmond  knew  that  the  return  of 
his  betrothed  would  be  delayed  several  weeks  be 
yond  her  first  calculations,  he  remained  in  San 
Francisco  to  adjust  matters  finally  as  to  certain 
interests  which  he  had  represented  in  Hawaii ;  nor 
arrived  at  his  ultimate  destination  until  the  day 
before  Esther's  sailing. 

His  first  thought  after  cabling  her,  as  he  was  a 
most  courteous  gentleman,  was  of  her  brother 
Joseph,  whom  he  knew,  to  be  sure,  only  through  the 
letters  of  his  betrothed,  but  to  whom  he  felt  drawn 
as  to  her  best  beloved  of  kindred. 

He  would  write  at  once  to  Joseph,  and  invite  him 
to  dine.  But  as  he  proceeded  to  carry  out  this 
hospitable  thought,  it  dawned  upon  him  that  he 
knew  neither  Joseph's  residence  nor  place  of  busi 
ness,  nor  ever  had  known  them. 

He  knew,  indeed,  that  Joseph  had  to  do  with 
public  works  of  some  sort,  and  that  he  lived  in  one 
of  the  towns  well  outside  the  city's  corporate  limits. 
The  City  Directory  gave  him  no  light  on  his  quest. 

"Well,  he  will  see   my  name  among  the  hotel 


138  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 

arrivals  tomorrow,"  he  said,  reluctantly  postponing 
his  manifestation  of  good-will ;  for  to  talk  of  Esther 
with  the  one  who  knew  their  relation  was  the  one 
thing  which  would  make  bearable  the  week  yet  to 
pass  before  her  return. 

As  he  turned  from  the  Directory  he  became 
conscious  that  some  one  was  regarding  him  with  a 
fixed  and  friendly  scrutiny ;  also  that  the  gazer  was 
of  a  familiar  aspect. 

In  ten  years  many  of  one's  landmarks  are  obliter 
ated,  even  in  the  most  conservative  of  all  our 
American  cities,  and  a  man's  contemporaries  are 
wont  to  gain  in  girth,  or  lose  in  hair  ;  but  with  this 
man  time  had  stood  still. 

It  was  —  it  could  be  nobody  but  Peter  Jones, 
who  having  been  an  old  young  man  at  forty-five, 
remained  an  old  young  man  at  fifty-five ;  straight 
and  spare  as  ever,  though  perhaps  a  little  stiff, 
now,  as  well,  but  with  a  kindly  gleam  in  his 
honest  blue  eyes,  and  real  heartiness  in  his  hand 
clasp. 

For  the  recognition  was  mutual  by  this  time. 

"  But  you  have  changed,"  said  Mr.  Jones,  stand 
ing  off  a  little  and  surveying  Arthur  Esmond. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  filled  out  somewhat,  and  then 
I  have  dropped  the  side-whiskers.  My  exile  has 
made  a  fierce  Yankee  of  me." 

The  men  spoke  for  a  few  minutes  of  Hawaii  and 
electrical  engineering. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  139 

"Say,  old  man,  come  home  to  dinner  with  me. 
We  are  but  two  blocks  from  here." 

Esmond  demurred  for  a  moment ;  but  the  pros 
pect  of  a  lonely  evening  —  he  could  not  spend  it 
in  a  letter  to  Esther  —  was  not  comfortable.  Mr. 
Jones,  moreover,  was  urgent,  and  it  was  an  excel 
lent  opportunity  for  picking  up  the  threads  of  old 
associations  again. 

"  Quite  en  famille,  you  know,"  said  Mr.  Jones 
reassuringly,  as  they  passed  out  of  the  splendid 
corridors  of  the  new  Tremontaine,  into  the  cool 
November  twilight. 

Mr.  Jones  had  forgotten  for  the  moment  that  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Ray  were  to  dine  at  his  house  that  even 
ing.  Then  Mrs.  Willow  and  Mrs.  Wise  had  dropped 
in  for  five-o'clock  tea ;  and  the  ladies  had  so  much 
to  talk  about,  and  the  time  sped  by  so  fast,  that  they 
needed  no  urging  to  remain  for  dinner,  especially  as 
both  their  liege  lords  were  out  of  town.  Then  there 
was  Mrs.  Jones'  nephew ;  but  he  was  only  a  college 
youth,  and  simply  served  on  the  present  occasion  to 
keep  the  balance  of  the  sexes. 

Mr.  Esmond  was  distinctly  disconcerted,  not  to 
say  disappointed,  thus  to  miss  the  tete-a-tete  with  his 
old  acquaintance,  on  which  he  had  counted.  All 
the  little  company  were  strangers  to  him,  and  prom 
ised  no  increased  interest  on  acquaintance. 

But  as  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of  the  world  must, 
he  made  the  best  of  what  promised  to  be  unrelieved 


140  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

tedium,  including  his  hostess'  effort  to  exploit  him, 
on  the  strength  of  his  three  years'  sojourn  in  Hawaii, 
as  a  distinguished  foreigner. 

The  company  was  small  enough  for  conversation 
to  be  general ;  but  the  ladies  evidently  had  a  strong 
interest  in  common,  and  seemed  to  resent  the  irrele 
vance  of  the  gentlemen's  discussion  of  annexation, 
imperialism  and  the  like ;  only  Mrs.  Wise  having  the 
presence  of  mind  to  smile,  when  a  certain  document 
of  the  National  Executive  was  referred  to  as  "  a  tal 
low  candle  without  the  wick." 

Mrs.  Jones  seldom  served  wine,  and  neither  Mr. 
Jones  nor  his  nephew  smoked,  so  the  gentlemen  lin 
gered  but  briefly  in  the  dining-room  after  the  ladies 
had  gone  up  to  the  drawing-room. 

They  found  the  ladies  crowded  together  on  one 
small  sofa  and  an  easy-chair,  and  still  absorbed  in 
conversation.  They  were  all  matrons,  and  even  the 
stranger  was  not  of  sufficient  interest  at  the  time  to 
distract  them  for  more  than  a  moment  from  their 
present  momentous  topic. 

The  gentlemen  grouped  about  the  center-table  and 
resumed  their  chat. 

"  As  you  remarked,  Kay,"  said  the  host,  "  if  Cleve 
land  had  been  President  "  — 

But  above  the  bassos  and  baritones  the  shrill 
sopranos  of  the  ladies  in  the  corner  often  prevailed, 
and  the  stranger  inevitably  caught  such  exclama 
tions  as  this : 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  141 

"Weren't  you  surprised?"  .  .  .  "But  what  will 
she  say  ?"..."  How  do  you  suppose  she  will  take 
it  ? "  (This  from  three  ladies  at  once.) 

"  How  unfortunate  that  she  was  made  so  con 
spicuous  ! "  (Mrs.  Wise.) 

"  You  mean  that  she  made  herself  so  conspicu 
ous  ! "  (Mrs.  Jones.) 

"  No,  no ;  I  don't  agree  with  you  !  She's  a  mod 
est;  woman."  (Mrs.  Willow.) 

"  It  was  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight  —  on  her  part. 
Wasn't  I  there  ?  Didn't  I  have  the  misfortune  to 
introduce  them?  Even  my  husband  and  Mrs.  Or- 
mond  can't  say  a  word  but  '  I'm  sorry ! ' "  (This 
from  Mrs.  Ray.) 

"Well,  she's  town's  talk  now,  anyway."  (Mrs. 
Jones  again.) 

The  women's  voices  gained  on  the  men's. 

"  They're  talking  of  Coleman's  engagement,"  said 
his  host,  to  Arthur  Esmond.  "  Bertrand  Coleman  — 
you  must  have  known  him.  No?  Well,  he  was 
just  coming  into  prominence  here  when  you  went 
away.  Let  women  get  talking  on  weddings" — 

Just  then  there  was  a  stir  on  the  sofa.  Mrs.  Wil 
low  and  Mrs.  Wise  were  taking  their  farewells. 

Oh,  no !  they  wouldn't  allow  it.  Mr.  Jones  must 
not  leave  his  guests.  It  was  only  a  step  to  the  car, 
and  Mrs.  Willow  was  to  spend  the  night  with  Mrs. 
Wise. 

So  "good-night,"  and  "good-night,"  and  "thank 


142  THE   WAY  OF  THE    WORLD 

you  for  a  perfectly  lovely  evening,"  from  the  depart 
ing  ladies  all  the  way  to  the  door  and  down  the 
steps. 

Once  safely  around  the  corner  Mrs.  Willow  said 
to  Mrs.  Wise : 

"  Well,  I  suppose  that  old  cat  will  tear  her  limb 
from  limb,  now  that  I'm  gone.  I'd  have  stayed  to 
stand  up  for  her  if  any  one  was  there  to  whom  it 
would  make  any  difference." 

Meantime  the  group  of  four  in  the  drawing-room 
drew  together. 

"  We  were  discussing  Mr.  Coleman's  engagement," 
explained  Mrs.  Jones  ;  "  all  the  town's  agog  over  it, 
Mr.  Esmond.  You  see  it's  a  case  of  two  women  and 
one  man." 

Mr.  Esmond  had  been,  meantime,  trying  to  verify 
some  association  in  his  mind  with  the  name  of  Cole- 
man.  Ah!  yes.  Esther  had  several  times  men 
tioned  in  her  letters  a  Mr.  Coleman,  who  had  been 
very  kind  to  her  in  business  matters. 

But  his  hostess  went  on : 

"  There's  a  scarcity  of  eligibles  in  our  set,  and 
women  have  been  throwing  themselves  at  this  man's 
head  for  the  past  twelve  years.  He  had  good  looks, 
money,  position  "  — 

"  And  was  a  pretty  decent  fellow  as  men  go,"  put 
in  Mr.  Jones. 

"Well,  I  trust  he  will  be   happy,"  said  Arthur 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  143 

Esmond,  suppressing  a  yawn.     Mr.  Coleman's  love 
affairs  were  of  no  interest  to  him. 

"  Oh,  he'll  be  happy  enough,"  said  Mrs.  Ray. 
"  Mrs.  Wise  says  that  he's  perfectly  radiant  ever  since 
the  announcement.  I  suppose  you've  heard  that  the 
wedding  is  set  for  Thanksgiving  Day  —  that's  to 
have  it  before  Advent,  you  know.  He  starts  for 
Cleveland  Monday." 

"  Then  he  won't  be  here  when  "  — 
"  No  ;  I  suppose  Jane  will  break  the  news  "  — 
"  Don't  you  suppose  she  knows  anything  at  all  ? " 
"  Some  think  she  doesn't ;  but  for  my  part,"  said 
the  hostess,  "  I  think  Jane  must  have  given  her  a 
hint,  and  that's  why  she's  staying  away  till  all  is 
over." 

"  Don't  you  believe  about  the  old  lady's  illness  ?  " 
"  Not  a  word  of  it !     She's  a  'cute  one  ;  I  always 
told  you  that.     She's  letting  herself  down  easy." 

"  Miss  Coleman  says  they'll  have  a  grand  recep- 
tibn  on  the  evening  of  January  the  ninth." 

"  It  will  be  great  fun  to  see  if  mademoiselle  goes," 
continued  the  amiable  hostess  ;  "  but  of  course  she 
will.  I'd  like  to  see  her  greet  the  bride,  and  I  will, 
please  heaven." 

"  Oh,  the  poor  thing,"  said  Mrs.  Eay.  "  I  pity  her 
with  all  my  heart ;  and  I  don't  see  that  she  did  any 
thing  out  of  the  way,  except  about  the  picture." 

"Of  course  that  was  inexplicable,"  granted  Mr. 
Eay. 


144  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

The  stranger's  evident  effort  at  polite  interest  in 
an  abstract  topic  changed  to  a  puzzled  look. 

The  host  was  trying  to  get  in  a  word  edgeways. 

"  But  as  I  have  said  often  to  you  already,  Han 
nah  ! "  he  exclaimed  testily,  "  that  picture  might  have 
been  an  order ! " 

"It  was  an  offer.  I  guess  his  sister  ought  to 
know.  Am  I  not  right  ? "  to  Mrs.  Kay. 

The  latter  nodded ;  but  said  at  once : 

"  You  know  Mrs.  Willow  takes  her  part.  She 
won't  hear  a  word  against  her.  She  explains  it  this 
way  "  — 

"  Mrs.  Willow's  heart  was  set  on  the  match,  and 
she's  as  innocent  as  a  child,  anyhow  —  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Mr.  Esmond ;  of  course  they're  all  nothing 
but  names  to  you.  The  prize-winner  in  this  matri 
monial  contest  is  Miss  Tremaine  of  Cleveland, —  we 
none  of  us  know  anything  about  her,  except  that 
she's  only  a  little  while  out  of  school,  and  young 
enough  to  be  her  future  husband's  daughter.  He'd 
better  have  married  her  mother,  who,  I  hear,  is  a 
good-looking  widow  of  forty-five.  The  discarded 
one"  — 

"  Now,  really,  Mrs.  Jones  "  —  interposed  Mrs. 
Ray  — 

"  You  know  you  yourself  told  me  that  you  believed 
he  was  amusing  himself  with  her,"  said  Mrs.  Jones 
with  a  dangerous  smile.  "  I  never  professed  to  be 
her  friend  —  I  saw  through  her  from  the  start. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  145 

Well,  as  I  was  telling  you,  Mr.  Esmond,  the  dis 
carded  one  is  Miss  Esther  Ward,  our  noted  artist. 
'  Notorious '  would  be  a  rather  better  word  now." 

"  Hannah  ! "  remonstrated  her  husband. 

"Well,  have  you  seen  Social  Events  of  this 
week  ? "  she  asked,  with  another  of  those  danger 
ous  smiles. 

Social  Events  was  a  journal  against  which  every 
one  protested,  but  which  nearly  every  one  feared 
and  bought. 

"  I  must  bid  you  good-night  Mrs.  Jones  and  Mrs. 
Kay,"  said  Arthur  Esmond,  who  had  risen  with  a 
face  as  stern  as  flint  at  the  mention  of  Esther's 
name. 

His  host  accompanied  him  to  the  door. 

"  I'll  see  you  tomorrow,  Esmond." 

"  I  fear  not.  I  shall  be  leaving  town  imme 
diately,"  answered  the  departing  guest. 

"  Confound  your  gossip  !  "  said  Mr.  Jones  angrily, 
when  at  last  he  was  alone  with  his  wife. 

"  What  did  that  serious  man  care  for  all  your 
picking  at  those  people  whom  he  never  saw  nor 
heard  of  ?  You  spoiled  his  evening.  And  Hannah, 
what  in  the  world  has  Esther  Ward  ever  done  to 
you,  that  you've  been  at  her  ever  since  you  have 
known  her  ?  She  seems  to  be  a  modest,  inoffensive 
little  creature,  with  a  good  word  for  every  one. 
Supposing  she  has  had  a  disappointment?  Can't 


146  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

you  women  have  some  mercy  ?       Suppose  it  was 
your  own  case  ! " 

Mrs.  Jones  tossed  her  head,  and  told  him  to  mind 
his  own  affairs.  He  wasn't  the  keeper  of  her  con 
science. 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  H7 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

BLAMELESS   KING   ARTHUR. 

ARTHUR  ESMOND  was  reckoned  by  his  friends 
among  that  tiny  fraction  of  humanity  who  never 
make  mistakes.  He  was  punctilious  in  his  morals, 
in  his  honor,  in  his  manners ;  fastidious  in  his  tastes. 
He  demanded  of  other  men  and  women  that  they 
should  be  even  as  he. 

Yet  he  was  no  Pharisee  nor  hypocrite.  He  was 
simply  a  man  in  whom  one  passion  had  thus  far 
ruled  so  masterfully  that  the  rest  had  hardly  had  a 
chance  to  make  themselves  heard. 

His  intention,  his  profession,  his  practice,  pro 
claimed  him  a  good  Catholic.  If  his  foes  (whom  he 
accounted  rather  the  foes  of  rectitude  and  honor) 
found  that  he  had  an  infallible  memory,  so  also 
did  his  friends.  He  was  as  generous  as  a  prince ; 
regarding  parsimony  less  as  a  moral  fault  than  as 
an  evidence  of  vulgar  lineage,  and  even  a  noticeable 
thrift  as  bad  form. 

His  own  blameless  record,  his  unspotted  family 
honor,  were  his  idols,  to  which  he  was  ready,  though 
he  knew  it  not,  to  sacrifice  his  own  or  others'  happi 
ness. 


148  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

The  woman  who  should  bear  this  name,  make  a 
part  of  this  record,  must  be  above  criticism.  In 
deed,  except  in  the  expression  of  petty  envy  in  the 
matter  of  looks  or  toilettes,  it  was  a  principle  of  his 
that  a  woman  could  scarcely  excite  criticism  unless 
in  some  way  she  invited  it. 

A  great  part  of  Esther  Ward's  charm  for  him,  in 
the  days  while  their  acquaintance  was  progressing 
to  intimacy,  was  her  conformity  to  the  type  of  old- 
fashioned  gentlewoman  that  was  his  ideal  for 
womanhood. 

Ordinarily,  the  very  phrase  "  professional  woman  " 
had  set  his  teeth  on  edge.  But  here  was  a  success 
ful  young  artist,  alone  in  a  great  city,  who  had 
made  her  way  without  losing  in  the  least  degree  the 
delicate  grace  and  freshness  of  the  daughter  of  a 
sheltered  and  refined  home;  broadly  cultured  in 
mind,  frank  and  cordial  with  her  fellow  artists, 
though  conservative  in  personal  and  social  matters ; 
charitable  and  humble,  as  a  good  Christian  woman 
should  be ;  yet  as  fastidiously  averse  to  "  bachelor- 
maids,"  and  Bohemian  suppers,  and  women  who 
boasted  of  their  perils  by  flood  and  field  in  quest  of 
"scoops"  or  subjects,  or  who  clamored  for  new 
spheres  of  influence,  or  the  reform  of  the  universe, 
as  Lady  Clara  Vere  de  Vere  had  been. 

He  had  loved  her  for  these  things  and  for  many 
others ;  he  had  loved  her  because  she  had  been 
hard  to  win.  Even  after  he  was  sure  —  as  he  had 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  149 

fondly  believed  —  of  her  whole  heart's  affection, 
how  delicate  and  shy  she  was  in  the  expression 
of  it! 

What  awful  transformation  was  this !  Esther, 
the  reserved,  fine,  fastidious ;  Esther,  the  loyal  and 
loving ;  his  Esther,  dealing  so  deceitfully  with  him ; 
forgetting  her  womanly  dignity  in  the  pursuit  of 
another  man's  favor ;  the  amusement  of  his  idle 
hours ;  the  subject  of  the  sneering  pity  of  empty- 
headed  gossips ;  the  talk  of  the  town  ! 

Social  Events  lay  open  on  the  table  before  him. 

He  picked  it  up  as  gingerly  as  if  it  were  a  fetid 
rag,  and  again  the  horrible  paragraph  stood  out 
before  him  as  in  scarlet  letters. 

No  names  were  mentioned,  to  be  sure,  but  the 
identification  of  all  the  persons  was  complete  with 
out  them  :  "  The  distinguished  jurist  whose  recent 
victory  in  the  celebrated  Gray  vs.  Belden  case  has 
added  fresh  laurels  to  his  reputation  and  a  princely 
sum  to  his  fortune  .  .  .  the  charming  ingenu  bride 
.  .  .  the  romantic  circumstances  of  their  meet 
ing  .  .  .  the  surprise,  nevertheless,  in  social  circles, 
as  it  was  confidently  asserted  that  the  bride-to-be 
was  none  other  than  a  certain  gifted  artist,  whose 
fame  has  been  steadily  growing  since  the  success  of 
her  child-portrait,  '  Moss  Kose  Bud,'  two  years  ago. 
A  greater  success,  artistically,  was  the  portrait  of 
her  supposed  admirer,  the  last  work  from  her  hand 
before  her  very  sudden  departure  for  Europe  last 


150  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

June.  .  .  .  Dame  Eumor  is  a  lying  jade,  of  course, 
but  there  is  a  piquant  flavor  of  mystery  in  the 
whole  case.  .  .  .  The  prolonged  absence  of  the  lady 
in  question,"  etc. 

He  flung  the  sheet  from  him  into  the  open  grate 
with  a  gesture  of  supreme  disgust,  and  tried  to  read 
just  his  thoughts  to  a  new  vision  of  life,  with  all 
that  made  it  worth  living  gone  out  of  it. 

Was  there  no  voice  to  plead  for  Esther  ?  Indeed, 
she  came  before  him  during  that  long  vigil  in  every 
aspect  in  which  he  had  ever  seen  her.  Indeed,  the 
sound  of  her  voice  was  in  his  ears  all  night.  Those 
large,  beautiful,  gentle  gray  eyes  looked  at  him  so 
wistfully.  Those  soft  tones  stilled  for  a  moment 
the  jealous  tumult  in  his  heart.  A  wave  of  tender 
ness  arose  only  to  break  on  the  rock  of  the  sinister 
conviction  which  had  arisen  in  his  heart,  and  recoil 
upon  itself  baffled. 

He  went  over  the  words  of  the  little  group  he 
had  so  lately  quitted.  Who  had  attempted  to  soften 
the  case  for  Esther?  Jones  had  shown  a  manly 
desire  to  find  a  justification  for  her  inexplicable 
action,  but  in  vain. 

At  least  none  knew  the  worst  feature  of  the 
whole  wretched  matter,  in  the  fact  that  she  was  his 
betrothed. 

Was  there  no  word  for  Esther?  They  quoted 
Mrs.  Ormond.  She  had  been  "  so  sorry,"  or  "  she 
wouldn't  hear  a  word  against  her  "  —  which  was  it  ? 
There  had  been  such  a  chatter. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  151 

He  had  known  Mrs.  Ormond  in  her  maiden  days 
during  his  previous  sojourn  in  this  city.  He  re 
membered  her  as  a  woman  prudent  in  speech,  kind- 
hearted,  good,  through  and  through. 

He  had  been  a  guest  at  her  wedding ;  but  in  the 
stress  and  strain  of  this  past  eventful  decade  she 
had  gone  out  of  his  mind  except  as  the  wife  of  her 
now  famous  husband,  until  Esther's  occasional  refer 
ences  to  her  within  the  past  year,  had  brought  old 
times  back. 

The  Ormonds  had  been  first  among  the  people 
with  whom  he  had  intended  to  renew  old  acquaint 
ance. 

As  in  the  case  of  Esther's  brother,  he  had  counted 
on  them  to  help  him  beguile  these  last  days  of 
Esther's  absence,  by  speaking  and  hearing  her 
praises. 

He  smiled  grimly,  recalling  the  invitation  he  had 
planned  to  Joseph  Ward.  Then  a  new  suspicion 
obtruded  itself :  Why  had  Esther  never  been  more 
definite  as  to  this  nearest  and  dearest  brother  ? 

There  was  another  brother,  a  wild  fellow,  she  had 
admitted.  "  Wild  ? "  how  little  or  how  much  that 
might  mean ! 

Never  mind.  There  was  now  question  of  Esther, 
not  of  her  family ;  and  Mrs.  Ormond  had  an  opinion, 
evidently  favorable,  and  Mrs.  Ormond's  opinion  was 
worth  knowing  at  first  hand. 

But  Esther  would  be  here  to  speak  for  herself  in 
a  week. 


152  THE   WAY   OF  THE  WORLD 

Could  he  wish  to  meet  her,  as  he  felt  now,  if  he 
knew  she  were  within  twenty  paces  of  him  ? 

He  would  call  on  the  Ormonds  on  the  morrow, 
and  the  result  would  determine  many  things. 

It  could  not  explain  away  everything  :  for  exam 
ple,  the  paragraph  in  Social  Events. 

But  —  "  an  enemy  hath  done  this."  The  words 
flashed  through  his  mind  like  a  message  from  Heaven. 
Had  this  man,  Bertrand  Coleman,  who  was  evidently 
large  in  the  public  eye,  some  relentless  and  unscrupu 
lous  foe,  bent  on  troubling  his  peace,  and  catching 
at  some  singular,  yet  perfectly  explicable  happening, 
with  this  intent  ?  Painting  his  picture  !  An  order 
or  an  offer?  Something  had  been  said  about  Mr. 
Coleman's  sister.  He  would  see  Mrs.  Ormond,  any 
way. 

Twenty-four  hours  ago  Arthur  Esmond  would 
have  been  appalled  at  the  suggestion  that  he  could 
stoop  to  such  indiscretion  for  any  end.  But  the 
speediest  disintegrator  of  character  in  this  wicked 
world  is  jealousy,  and  the  sophistries  with  which  its 
victim  can  justify  the  unworthiest  courses  are  beyond 
belief. 

He  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  three  o'clock. 
A  few  hours'  sleep,  and  he  could  put  his  project  into 
effect. 

Mrs.  Ormond  had  aged  scarcely  a  year  in  the 
decade,  for  all  of  three  little  Ormonds,  who  were 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  153 

audible,  though  not  visible,  while  she  was  greeting 
her  guest. 

"  We  were  so  delighted  with  your  interview  in  the 
Wayfarer  this  morning,"  she  was  saying.  "  Mr. 
Ormond  was  to  call  on  you  at  the  Tremontaine 
before  his  return,  but  now  you  are  here,  of  course 
you  will  stay  for  luncheon.  Such  an  excellent  inter 
view  !  Now  that  is  legitimate  journalism.  We 
are  all  so  interested  in  Hawaii,  especially  those  of 
us  who  have  read  '  South  Sea  Idyls.' " 

"  You  know  the  book  and  the  author  ?  Not  the 
author  ?  Ah,  but  you  will :  a  great  friend  of  Mr. 
Ormond's." 

Mrs.  Ormond  paused  for  a  moment  to  answer  a 
tap  at  the  door. 

"  Yes,  we'll  have  the  little  ones  in  by-and-by. 
Three  little  boys,"  with  motherly  pride;  "but  I'm 
afraid  they're  a  noisy  little  crowd ;  they're  so  strong 
and  well." 

The  guest  murmured  his  congratulations.  He 
was  anxious  to  get  the  conversation  back  to  legiti 
mate  journalism.  His  hostess  talked  a  little  of  the 
memories  which  they  had  in  common;  then  as  a 
woman's  way  is,  jumped  back  to  the  interview. 

"The  Wayfarer  always  does  these  things  so  well. 
But  take  my  advice,  and  don't  give  a  word  to  anyone 
from  Social  Events." 

Her  guest  lifted  interrogating  eyebrows.  Alas  for 
the  straightforwardness  of  a  jealous  man  ! 


154  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

"  Well,  they  deal  in  personalities,"  she  explained, 
"  and  would  perform  a  surgical  operation  on  your 
brain  or  heart  in  quest  of  news.  We  are  all  so  an 
noyed —  that  is,  we  who  are  her  friends  —  at  a 
wretched  thing  in  this  current  issue.  Miss  Ward 
isn't  named,  of  course,  but  everybody  knows  who 
painted  '  The  Moss  Eose  Bud  ' —  and  then,  to  drag 
in  the  names  of  all  the  sacred  subjects,  as  if  the 
identification  were  not  close  enough  without  that." 

"  The  lady  in  question  is  your  friend  ? " 

"  I  think  of  her  as  a  friend,  though  we  don't  know 
each  other  very  long.  We  were  drifting  into  a 
pleasant  friendship  when  she  went  abroad,  a  little 
unexpectedly,  last  June.  She  wasn't  here  in  your 
time.  Indeed,  she  is  a  comparatively  newcomer. 
But  you  may  know  her  at  least  by  reputation." 

Her  guest  bowed  his  assent. 

"  Of  course,"  continued  his  hostess,  "  the  move 
ments  of  a  woman  whose  work  is  public  attract 
attention  where  those  of  us  homebodies  wouldn't  be 
noticed.  For  rny  part,  however,  I  am  sure  that 
whatever  Miss  Ward  did  was  justified  by  the 
relation  between  herself  and  the  gentleman  in  ques 
tion.  Something  may  have  happened  since  last 
summer  to  break  it  off.  I  know  nothing,  except 
that  there  seemed  to  be  a  very  strong  friendship ; 
the  general  opinion  was,  something  more.  I'm 
sorry,  more  sorry  than  I  can  say,  at  the  turn  affairs 
have  taken,  and  the  very  undesirable  publicity  given 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  155 

to  this  poor  little  woman.  But  let  us  talk  of  some 
thing  nicer  than  yellow  journalism  —  Ah,  here  are 
my  little  boys  —  John,  Thomas  and  Edward  — 
shake  hands,  dears,  with  Mr.  Esmond." 

That  gentleman  coerced  himself  into  a  show  of 
interest  in  the  three  white-haired,  brown-eyed  and 
shy  little  Ormonds,  but  in  ten  minutes  he  rose  to 
make  his  adieus,  and  expressed  his  regret  that  his 
necessity  for  taking  the  one  o'clock  train  for  Wash 
ington  made  it  impossible  that  he  should  stay  to 
meet  Mr.  Ormond. 

With  his  last  hope  shattered  by  Esther's  true 
friend  and  wellwisher,  Arthur  Esmond  speeded  on 
his  way  South,  while  Esther  drew  a  day  nearer  to 
her  sorrow. 


156  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 


CHAPTEE  XVIII. 

JANE   AND   THE   MAJOR. 

JANE  COLEMAN  was  in  very  low  spirits ;  so  blue, 
she  said  herself  that  indigo  would  have  made  a 
white  streak  on  her. 

There  were  conditions,  as  we  have  already  inti 
mated,  under  which  she  might  have  been  reconciled 
to  her  brother's  marriage,  whoever  the  bride-elect 
might  be;  but  these  had  not  come  to  pass,  and 
although  she  had  prudently  kept  her  mind  to  her 
self  on  the  subject,  the  actual  chosen  one  was  very 
distasteful  to  her. 

In  the  first  place,  Jane  was  impatient  of  anything 
which  he  who  runs  may  not  read.  The  various 
little  difficulties  in  this  course  of  true  love  had 
seemed  to  her  mysterious  in  a  wholly  unnecessary 
degree. 

Then  there  was  a  mother,  and  unmistakable  evi 
dence  of  clever  management  on  her  part,  as  well  as 
of  straitened  circumstances.  Why  wasn't  there  also 
a  whole  brood  of  younger  brothers  and  sisters  to 
profit  by  Annette's  good  match,  and  help  to  waste 
Bertrand  Coleman's  hard-earned  substance  ?  What 
more  natural  ?  Mrs.  Tremaine  wasn't  the  woman 
to  tell  the  whole  story  to  any  one. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  157 

Indeed,  Jane  wept  at  the  picture  which  her  sad 
fancy  conjured  up  on  this  especial  evening,  of  the 
second  Mrs.  Coleman  recklessly  using  the  best  china 
every  day,  and  the  young  Tremaines  infesting  the 
heretofore  beautifully  kept  house,  to  the  manifest 
detriment  of  carpets  and  bric-and-brac. 

For  the  bride-elect  was  indeed  very  young  and 
inexperienced ;  little  more  than  a  schoolgirl,  and  a 
puppet  in  the  hands  of  her  astute  mamma. 

Then  Jane  saw  her  own  importance  reduced  to 
the  vanishing  point  by  the  change.  To  do  her 
justice,  her  sisterly  solicitude  for  her  brother  was 
her  uppermost  thought ;  and  her  bitterest  pang,  the 
realization  that  she  was  no  longer  necessary  to  his 
happiness  or  comfort. 

But  she  would  not  have  been  human  had  she  not 
thought  of  her  own  altered  position  as  well. 

As  mistress  of  her  brother's  beautiful  home  she 
had  been  the  friend  of  his  friends ;  as  having  his 
ear  at  all  seasons,  she  had  been  courted  and  flat 
tered  by  the  host  of  people  who  seek  the  coun 
tenance  of  men  in  high  places. 

All  this  was  over  now.  She  was  conscious  of  the 
change,  indeed,  from  the  hour  that  her  brother's 
engagement  became  known. 

Many  of  those  who  had  erst  sought  her  changed 
their  manner  at  once  to  a  sort  of  lofty  patronage, 
and  were  vociferous  in  commendation  of  her  broth 
er's  choice,  without  even  waiting  to  see  what  man 
ner  of  woman  this  was. 


158  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

Whom  could  she  count  on  of  all  to  whom  she 
had  shown  hospitality,  whose  cause  she  had  pleaded 
with  her  brother,  whose  way  she  had  smoothed  by 
her  ready  sympathy  and  service  ? 

Jane  knew  the  world.  Mrs.  "Willow  was  kind- 
hearted,  and  would  probably  keep  up  something  of 
the  old-time  intercourse.  And  Mrs.  Wise  would 
follow  Mrs.  Willow's  example.  But  both  would 
weary  her  soul  with  the  praises  of  the  bride,  who 
would  have  for  Mrs.  Willow,  at  least,  the  interest  of 
a  new  playfellow. 

On  Mrs.  Eay  Jane  could  not  reckon,  and  she 
knew  that  Mrs.  Jones  would  promptly  forget  her 
very  existence. 

Really,  there  was  only  Esther  Ward  of  whom  she 
could  be  comfortably  sure.  Esther  would  never  vex 
her  by  idle  questions  or  inopportune  comparisons. 
Esther  was  not  moved  by  mere  money  or  novelty. 

Yet  she  was  more  vexed  at  Esther  than  at  any 
one,  perhaps,  except  the  bride-elect. 

Why  had  Esther  gone  off  in  that  sudden  and  un 
foreseen  way,  just  when  she  might  have  been  of 
some  service? 

Jane  would  not  have  felt  any  better  had  Esther 
been  in  the  place  of  Annette  Tremaine.  On  the 
whole,  by  a  curious  feminine  perversity,  Jane  felt 
that  she  would  rather  lose  her  brother  to  a  perfect 
stranger  than  to  the  best  and  dearest  of  her  friends. 

But  if  Esther  had  remained,  perhaps  the  evil  day 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  159 

might  have  been  staved  off  a  little  longer,  and  at 
any  rate  Jane  would  have  had  a  safe  and  kindly 
confidante. 

Esther  had  no  worldly  sense  after  all.  She  did 
the  most  unaccountable  things. 

What  would  Major  McAlpine  think  of  Bertrand's 
engagement  ? 

It  was  queer,  but  once  things  began  to  go  wrong 
in  a  woman's  life,  they  all  went  wrong  together. 

The  Major  had  not  called  for  a  month,  and  Mrs. 
Jones  had  hinted  very  broadly  that  he  had  spent 
an  evening  at  their  house,  and  taken  her  niece  to 
a  concert. 

"  Horrid  old  gad-about  and  gossip ! "  thought 
Jane. 

She  was  sitting  in  the  back  drawing-room,  with 
the  lights  turned  low.  Social  Events  was  crumpled 
in  her  hand. 

Her  brother  called  it  a  serpent,  and  despised  it ; 
but  Jane  had  always  a  little  feminine  curiosity  to 
know  "who's  catching  it  now,"  and  always  took 
possession  of  it  when  it  came. 

She  thought,  this  evening,  how  dreadfully  the 
paragraph  which  we  have  seen  would  annoy  her 
brother.  He  was  off  for  a  farewell  dinner  at  his 
club.  Why  should  he  have  all  the  roses  and  she  all 
the  thorns  ?  She  was  minded  to  leave  it  where 
he  couldn't  help  seeing  it,  on  his  return. 

She  was  too  absorbed  in  her  own  sorrows  to  think 
of  the  mischief  to  Esther  Ward. 


160  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

But  at  the  thought  of  her  brother  all  personal 
bitterness  was  merged  in  genuine  grief  and  loneli 
ness.  A  sob  rose  in  her  throat  and  her  eyes  over 
flowed. 

The  bell  rang ;  it  was  a  familiar  ring,  and  she  had 
hardly  time  to  dry  her  eyes  when  Major  Me  Alpine, 
disregarding  formalities,  like  the  privileged  friend 
he  was,  strode  across  the  unlighted  front  drawing- 
room,  and  was  beside  her  with  hand  outstretched. 

"  And  your  brother  ? "  he  asked  after  a  moment. 
"  I've  been  slow  with  my  congratulations,  but  I  sup 
pose  he  hasn't  had  chance  to  miss  them  —  he  must 
be  overwhelmed  "  — 

Something  checked  the  Major's  rapid  speech. 
Was  it  that  he  noticed  a  slight  but  unwonted  pink- 
ness  about  Jane's  pretty  blue  eyes,  as  he  stooped  in 
greeting  her?  or  did  he  draw  his  own  conclusion 
from  her  demur  when  the  maid  came  in  to  make  an 
other  light  ? 

There  was  an  awkward  silence.  Jane  had  not 
quite  recovered  self-control,  and  the  Major  did  not 
quite  know  how  to  begin  his  chat. 

He  was  no  diplomat,  however. 

"  Hang  it,  Miss  Jane  !  "  he  said  at  last,  "  I  hope 
this  change  isn't  going  to  be  for  the  worse  for 
you." 

Alas  for  Jane's  bravery !  The  tears  that  she  had 
been  trying  to  swallow,  ran  over,  in  plain  sight  of 
the  sympathetic  Major. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  161 

"  Don't,  don't,  Miss  Jane ! "  he  cried,  in  real  dis 
tress.  "  Confound  it,  what  put  this  notion  into  your 
brother's  head,  anyhow  ? " 

"  I  wouldn't  care,"  sobbed  Jane,  "  but  it's  hard  to 
lose  one's  home,  after  all  these  years." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Aren't  you  going  to  stay 
here  ?  I  understand  the  bride  is  quite  a  girl.  Why, 
your  brother  can't  do  without  you !  " 

"  She's  got  a  mother,"  sighed  Jane,  "  and  a  whole 
lot  of  brothers  and  sisters,  I  know ;  there  will  be  no 
place  here  for  me ;  and  there  wouldn't  be,  anyhow, 
once  he  was  married." 

The  simplicity  and  forlornity  of  her  utterance 
went  to  the  Major's  heart. 

"  Well,  he'll  live  to  rue  it.  At  his  time  of  life, 
and  after  the  home  you  made  for  him." 

"  Oh,  don't  say  that ! "  cried  Jane,  still  tearful, 
though  cheered  a  little  by  this  honest  sympathy. 
"What  good  would  it  be  to  me  that  my  brother 
should  be  unhappy  ? " 

"  Generous  little  soul ! "  said  the  Major,  heartily. 
"  But  what  are  your  plans  ? " 

Another  tearful  silence. 

The  Major  walked  the  length  of  the  drawing- 
room,  and  coughed  and  blinked  in  sympathy. 

"  D it !  didn't  he  have  his  good  home  and 

his  freedom  to  boot  ? "  he  muttered. 

He  walked  the  length  of  both  rooms  twice  again. 
By  this  time  Jane  had  restrained  her  tears,  and 


162  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

even  ceased  jabbing  at  the  tops  of  her  cheeks  with 
her  handkerchief. 

"  Miss  Jane,"  he  said  firmly,  coming  to  a  full 
stop  before  her,  "  you  are  out  of  a  home,  and  I  never 
had  one.  Suppose  we  set  to  work  and  see  if  we 
can't  set  one  up  together?  You  know  my  worst 
failing  —  I've  been  free  enough  here  for  you  to 
guess  it;  but  'pon  my  word,  if  I  had  the  care  you've 
given  your  brother,  I'd  be  a  different  man." 

"  I  don't  think  you  are  very  bad  just  as  you 
are,"  said  Jane  softly,  with  a  faint  little  smile,  like  a 
rainbow  in  the  moolight. 

"  Jane,  I'm  too  blunt  for  soft  speeches,  but  there 
isn't  a  woman  on  earth  I'd  rather  have  at  the  head 
of  my  house  than  you." 

"  And  I  care  more  for  you  than  for  any  man  living 
except  Bertrand." 

"  Oh,  hang  Bertrand !  I  beg  your  pardon  —  but 
you  don't  like  him  as  well  as  you  do  me  —  now 
honest ! " 

His  hand  was  on  her  shoulder  and  his  face  closer 
to  hers  than  it  had  ever  been  before. 

She  turned  so  as  to  put  her  lips  to  his  ear,  and 
what  she  whispered  must  have  been  very  reassuring, 
or  the  gallant  Major  would  hardly  have  had  the  cour 
age  to  be  so  demonstrative  as  he  became  forthwith. 

It  was  midnight  when  Mr.  Coleman  returned 
home,  with  a  little  sinking  at  his  heart,  for  his  sis 
ter's  evident  distress  had  been  grievous  to  him. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  163 

He  noticed  the  light  in  the  back  drawing-room. 

Major  McAlpine  advanced  to  meet  him. 

"  I  bring  my  congratulations  and  ask  yours." 

One  glance  at  his  sister's  bright  face  explained 
everything  to  Bertrand  Coleman. 

After  her  brother's  hearty  kiss  Jane's  instinct  of 
hospitality  asserted  itself,  and  presently  they  were 
all  enjoying  a  dainty  little  collation  together. 

"  I  heard  of  you  through  Mrs.  Jones  last  week," 
said  Jane,  as  she  was  bidding  her  lover  farewell  in 
the  hall. 

"  Yes ;  I  went  in  there  at  his  appointment  to  see 
Jones  about  a  bit  of  land  I  have  in  the  market,  and 
she  asked  me  to  take  her  niece  over  to  the  hall 
where  her  brother  and  sister  were  awaiting  her,  as 
it  was  on  my  way." 

"  Then  you  didn't  invite  her  niece  to  go  to  a  con 
cert  with  you  ? " 

"  I'd  look  well !  Did  she  tell  you  I  did  ?  The 
old  mischief-maker !  I  suppose  you  know  she's 
fairly  eating  the  flesh  off  Miss  Ward's  bones." 

"  Sh  ! "  said  Jane,  glancing  up  the  stairs.  "  Now 
that  everything  has  come  out  so  happily,  I  don't 
want  Bertrand  worried  before  he  goes  away.  Don't, 
for  your  life,  tell  him  about  Social  Events." 

"  Well,  I've  done  it ! "  cried  the  Major,  as  he  lit 
the  gas  in  his  dusty  bachelor  apartments.  "I've 
done  it,  and  I'm  not  sorry.  She'll  make  you  walk  a 


164  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

crack,  old  boy;  but  if  you  don't  walk  a  crack  for 
her,  you'll  walk  a  plank  for  Old  Nick.  Best  little 
woman  in  town,  bless  her  heart ! " 

And  the  Major  said  his  brief  but  too-often-for 
gotten  prayers,  took  a  smaller  "  night-cap "  than 
usual,  and  was  soon  in  the  land  of  dreams. 

At  the  same  hour  Bertrand  Coleman  turned  to  his 
rest  with  a  lightened  heart ;  and  Jane,  having  made 
a  big  promise  to  St.  Joseph,  to  be  fulfilled  on  her 
wedding  day,  burned  Social  Events  before  she  went 
to  bed. 

And  the  high  wind  in  the  rear  of  the  "New 
Amsterdam,"  which  was  gathering  for  the  worst 
storm  of  many  decades,  hastened  that  good  ship  into 
harbor  a  whole  day  ahead  of  her  time. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  165 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

UNWELCOMED   HOME. 

A  HUNDKED  times  during  the  last  days  of  the 
voyage,  Esther  had  forecast  her  arrival  and  her 
meeting  with  the  lover  from  whom  she  had  been  so 
long  separated. 

Pacing  the  deck  as  the  wintry  day  was  slowly 
breaking  over  the  bleak  gray  sea,  she  tried  to  picture 
him  coming  towards  her  with  that  restrained  eager 
ness  which  she  knew  so  well,  and  the  weight  lifted 
from  her  heart  for  a  while,  and  her  spirits  rose  in  a 
timid,  tender  delight  that  was  like  the  fluttering  of 
a  gentle  bird  in  a  familiar  hand,  whose  warmth  it 
loves,  yet  fears  a  little. 

Pacing  the  deck  at  night,  while  the  stars,  shining 
through  the  masts  and  rigging,  outlined  the  semblance 
of  an  altar  illumined  for  the  Sacrifice,  she  dreamed 
again  of  that  first  moment  of  reunion,  but  hope 
failed  and  fainted. 

"  The  joy  of  love's  fruition  is  not  for  you,"  warned 
the  waves,  as  they  ran  high  that  last  night  of  all, 
under  the  speeding  gale. 

The  "New  Amsterdam"  had  been  scheduled  to 
arrive  Sunday  morning.  It  was  ten  o'clock  Saturday 
morning  when  she  came  in  at  Chestertown  wharf. 


166  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

There  had  been  but  a  handful  of  cabin  passengers, 
and  they  for  the  most  part  had  taken  their  friends 
unaware. 

Was  there  not  one  at  least,  of  all  for  whom  the 
incoming  of  the  "  New  Amsterdam  "  had  a  meaning, 
who  would  have  known  when  she  was  sighted,  who 
would  have  been  at  the  telephone  since  daybreak, 
and  at  Chestertown  wharf  for  the  last  hour? 

Esther  drew  her  breath  hard,  and  felt  a  mist 
between  her  and  the  familiar  scene  as  the  vessel 
swung  into  her  berth ;  but  when  it  cleared  there  was 
no  one  in  sight  but  Martha  Cutts.  While  Esther 
was  straining  her  eyes  as  if  to  compel  another  image 
on  their  retina,  Martha  had  boarded  the  steamer,  and 
there  was  nothing  for  Esther  but  to  take  her  to  the 
sheltered  spot  on  deck  where  Mrs.  Mint  and  her 
maid  were  sitting  in  the  midst  of  trunks  and  bags 
and  steamer  chairs  and  strapped  rugs  and  umbrellas. 

In  the  joy  of  greeting  her  faithful  Martha,  Mrs. 
Mint  forgot  Esther  for  the  moment. 

Directly  she  noticed  her  pallid  face  and  startled 
eyes,  however,  she  had  but  one  explanation  for  them  ; 
but  she  dared  not  express  what  she  felt,  except  in 
an  increased  kindliness  of  manner. 

"Oh,  Miss  Ward!"  cried  Mrs.  Cutts,  "I  was 
almost  forgetting,  but  your  Ellen  was  out  at  our 
house  at  daybreak  to  see  if  we  had  a  later  word  of 
you,  and  she  is  all  ready  for  you ! " 

"No  matter,"  said  Mrs.  Mint  heartily;  "Miss 
Ward  is  coming  right  home  with  us." 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  167 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Mint,"  said  Esther  faintly,  "  but 
if  you  will  be  good  enough  to  drive  me  home  after 
we  have  passed  the  customs,  it  will  be  better  for 
me.  My  brother  will,  of  course,  expect  to  find  me 
there." 

Mrs.  Mint  forbore  to  press  her  invitation.  She 
understood,  or  thought  she  understood,  Esther's 
motive.  But  her  own  heart  sank  as  she  saw  all 
the  light  go  out  of  her  friend's  eyes  when  the 
expected  one  came  not,  for  all  her  anxious  glances ; 
and  it  was  a  forlorn  and  travel-weary  woman  who 
entered  the  apartments  made  fresh  and  fair  for  her 
home-coming,  but  empty  of  kindred  or  lover's  greeting. 

Mrs.  Mint's  forebodings  were  confirmed  as  she  and 
Martha  rode  the  rest  of  the  way  together,  and  the 
latter  unfolded  to  her  the  gossip  in  which  poor 
Esther's  name  had  become  so  painfully  prominent. 

Esther  found  a  huge  accumulation  of  letters 
and  newspapers,  mostly  unimportant,  but  not  a 
line  to  explain  Arthur  Esmond's  absence  at  this 
supreme  moment. 

That  there  was  no  word  from  her  intimate  friends 
in  the  city  was  easily  explained.  Jane  Coleman  and 
Mrs.  Willow  had  undoubtedly  planned  to  meet  her. 
Her  brother  had  not  been  able  to  learn  over  night,  of 
the  unexpected  early  arrival  of  the  "  New  Amster 
dam,"  but  probably  was  aware  of  it  by  this  time,  and 
would  be  with  her  within  an  hour. 

This  was  indeed  the  case.     She  had  hardly  finished 


168  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WOULD 

the  letter  awaiting  her  from  Bertrand  Coleman,  in 
which  he  detailed  to  her  the  happy  solution  of  all 
his  difficulties,  and  his  approaching  marriage  —  the 
letter  was  a  week  old,  and  she  was  too  preoccupied 
with  her  own  anxieties  to  give  it  the  complete  and 
friendly  attention  it  would  otherwise  have  had  from 
her  —  when  her  brother  entered. 

Her  effort  at  a  cheerful  greeting  was  a  sad  failure. 
Joe  held  her  off  in  his  strong  arms  for  a  moment. 
He  dimly  divined  her  trouble,  but  he  had  her  own 
reserved  nature. 

"Why,  Esther!"  was  all  he  could  say,  as  he 
smoothed  the  thick,  soft  hair  off  her  temples. 

If  Esther  had  cried,  as  Mollie  always  did,  when 
things  went  wrong,  Joe  would  have  found  some  com 
forting  word.  But  what  could  anyone  say  before 
this  pale,  hollow-eyed,  tearless  grief  ? 

She  slipped  from  his  hands  down  on  the  little 
sofa  in  the  corner  of  the  studio,  and  he  sat  silently 
beside  her. 

At  last  she  spoke,  in  a  frightened  whisper :  "  What 
has  happened  ?  Don't  fear  to  tell  me.  I  can  bear 
anything  better  than  this  awful  suspense." 

"  Esther,  I  don't  know  how  to  explain  it.  He  was 
here  at  the  Tremontaine  a  week  ago  Wednesday  "  — 

"  Yes,"  she  interrupted,  "  I  had  a  cablegram  from 
him  on  the  steamer  at  Liverpool  "Thursday  morn 
ing." 

"  I  called  Thursday,"  continued  Joe,  "  only  to  find 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  169 

that  he  had  left  for  Washington  very  unexpectedly. 
I  learned  that  he  would  be  at  the  Normandie,  and 
wrote  him  from  home  that  evening,  expressing  my 
great  regret  at  not  seeing  him,  and  asking  him  to 
write  me  when  he  expected  to  return.  I  have  heard 
nothing  since." 

Esther  thought  of  Arthur  Esmond's  minute  and 
punctilious  courtesy,  and  her  heart  died  within  her. 
His  going  to  Washington  was  easily  explained.  He 
should  have  gone  there  at  some  time  within  the 
month,  in  any  event,  and  she  could  understand  that 
he  might  have  had  a  sudden  summons  thither.  But 
that  he  should  not  have  returned  to  meet  her ;  that 
neither  letter  nor  telegram  should  await  her;  that 
Joe's  letter  should  remain  unanswered  —  what  ex 
planation  for  these  inconceivable  things  ! 

"  And  Ned  ? "  she  asked. 

"  Not  a  word  from  him  or  of  him,"  answered  Joe. 

There  was  another  long,  sorrowful  silence. 

"  Why  don't  you  telegraph  Mr.  Esmond  at  the 
Normandie  ? "  suggested  Joe,  diffidently. 

Esther  caught  at  the  idea.  Why  not  ?  Was  she 
not  Arthur  Esmond's  promised  wife  ?  She  was  well 
within  her  right,  for  surely  nothing  but  some  dread 
calamity  which  left  him  powerless,  had  kept  him 
from  her  now. 

Joe  gladly  noted  her  returning  color,  and  con 
tinued  : 

"Write   your  telegram  now,  and  I'll  send  it  at 


170  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

once,  and  you  can  follow  it  with  a  letter  this  after 
noon." 

Esther  complied,  and  when  Joe  returned  for  lunch 
eon  with  her,  she  had  recovered  something  of  her 
wonted  self-control. 

But  she  made  only  a  show  of  eating  to  keep  her 
brother  in  countenance,  and  her  efforts  at  conversa 
tion  on  the  incidents  of  her  trip  were  so  pitiful 
that  her  silence  would  have  been  easier  to  her  kind- 
hearted  companion. 

He  felt,  however,  that  his  presence  was  a  comfort 
to  her,  and  he  made  himself  at  home  in  her  studio 
with  a  novel,  while  she  retired  to  write  her  letter. 

As  the  dusk  came  on,  the  big,  fast-falling  snow- 
flakes  and  the  high  wind  warned  him  to  hasten  to 
his  home,  half  an  hour  distant  by  the  railroad. 

"  You  know  our  little  baby  girl  is  quite  delicate," 
explained  Joe. 

Esther's  heart  smote  her,  for  all  of  her  own  trouble. 
She  had  quite  forgotten  the  new  baby. 

"  I'm  sure  she's  a  dear  little  thing,  Joe.  Whom 
does  she  look  like,  and  what  is  her  name  ?  " 

Joe  looked  embarrassed. 

"Well,  I  think  she  looks  like  you,  Esther;  but 
seeing  she  was  our  first  little  girl,  I  left  the  choice 
of  name  to  her  mother.  She  is  Gladys  Cecilia." 

Esther  divined  the  cause  of  her  brother's  embar 
rassment,  but  smiled  at  the  baby's  name  in  spite  of 
herself. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  171 

"  I'm  glad  there's  not  another  Esther  Ward,"  she 
said ;  but  Joe  felt  a  lump  in  his  throat  as  she  said  it. 

The  storm  came  on  that  night,  and  for  two  days 
it  had  its  will  on  land  and  sea. 

Esther  was  in  an  isolation  as  complete  as  if  she 
were  stranded  on  a  desert  island. 

On  the  third  day  came  in  the  news  of  ships  gone 
down  at  sea  or  wrecked  on  shore ;  of  wayfarers  lost 
in  snowdrifts ;  and  of  the  minor  evils  of  travel  and 
traffic  interrupted. 

Some  local  letters  reached  Esther.  Mrs.  Willow, 
Mrs.  Wise  and  Jane  Coleman  sent  notes  of  congratu 
lation  on  her  safe  arrival,  and  promises  of  calls  on 
the  first  possible  day. 

Mrs.  Mint  sent  Martha  in  to  see  for  herself  how 
Esther  had  fared  during  the  storm,  and  to  entreat 
her  to  return  with  her  for  a  few  days  to  "  the  Castle." 
But  no  letter  came  from  Arthur  Esmond,  and  Martha 
returned  to  Mrs.  Mint  alone. 


172  THE  WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

A   WOMAN   FORSAKEN. 

ARTHUR  ESMOND  was  still  in  Washington ;  for  the 
morning  papers  reproduced  a  portion  of  another 
interview  on  Hawaiian  affairs,  appearing  in  the 
Washington  Post  the  day  previous. 

Esther  felt,  when  she  glanced  at  it,  as  if  an  im 
passable  wall  had  suddenly  risen  on  her  path  of  life. 
She  could  not  go  forward ;  she  could  not  turn  back. 
A  succession  of  sleepless  nights  had  left  her  with 
nerves  unstrung,  and  the  non-arrival  of  the  letter 
for  which  she  had  hoped  against  hope  seemed  the 
last  straw. 

She  sat  down  at  her  desk,  faint  and  shuddering. 
What  could  it  mean  ?  The  only  imaginable  expla 
nation  was,  that  in  some  way  or  another  her  lover 
had  learned  something  of  poor  Ned's  unpleasant  his 
tory,  and  was  displeased  with  her  for  having  kept  it 
from  him. 

Yet  this  was  so  far-fetched,  so  utterly  unlikely. 
Was  she  not  dishonoring  her  lover  by  entertaining 
the  thought  for  a  moment  ? 

If,  indeed,  Ned's  whole  career  were  laid  bare  before 
him,  and  he  remembered  Esther's  reticence  about  it, 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  173 

would  he  not,  as  a  man  with  his  own  family  ties, 
rather  have  honored  a  sister's  desire  to  hide  her 
brother's  weakness?  Would  he  not,  as  a  man  of 
the  world,  have  thought  of  the  commonness  of  such 
black  sheep  ?  Would  he  not,  as  a  lover,  have  had 
his  love  tenfolded  by  pity,  and  desire  to  stand 
between  the  woman  of  his  choice  and  the  sorrow 
and  shame  which  might  come  of  her  kinship? 

Bertrand  Coleman  would  have  done  it.  He  had 
said,  in  effect,  that  any  man  would  do  it.  But  then 
he  was  a  man  who  had  proved  human  weakness  by 
his  own  experience,  as  Arthur  never  had. 

At  once  she  bethought  herself  that,  absorbed  in 
her  own  perplexity  and  distress,  she  had  been  un 
mindful  of  this  good  friend  in  his  happiness. 

In  her  hope  of  a  happy  outcome  of  his  affair, 
she  had  brought  home  a  little  gift  for  the  bride. 
This  she  would  send  over  to  the  house  to  await  their 
return;  but  a  note  of  congratulation  must  go  to 
them  at  once  at  Asheville,  where  they  were  spend 
ing  their  honeymoon. 

These  duties  of  friendship  accomplished,  Esther 
returned  to  her  sorrowful  musing. 

Again  the  barely  imaginable  explanation  presented 
itself  in  an  altered  form.  Her  lover  knew  all  about 
Ned,  and  was  not  holding  this  fairly  common  mis 
fortune  against  her,  but  only  her  want  of  confidence 
in  him. 

He  was  a  blameless  man,  but  proud,  perhaps  ;  yes, 


174  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

and  rather  exacting  —  she  would  not  for  worlds 
have  said  "  jealous." 

Well,  perhaps  she  had  been  wrong.  And  if  in 
the  least  she  had  grieved  the  heart  that  was  hers, 
surely  she  owed  reparation.  Ah,  ine !  the  ingenu 
ity  of  a  woman's  love  in  devising  excuses  for  the 
beloved. 

She  spread  a  sheet  of  paper  before  her  and  wrote 
the  date.  Then  she  dropped  her  pen,  while  the 
blood  surged  over  her  pale  face. 

Was  she  forcing  herself  on  a  man  who  wished  to 
have  done  with  her  ? 

But  instantly  a  myriad  passionate  words  of  his 
love  and  longing,  a  myriad  proofs  of  his  devotion, 
clamored  against  this  new  temptation. 

"It  is  I  who  have  been  proud  and  hard,"  mur 
mured  the  woman  ;  and  she  wrote : 

"  Oh,  Arthur !  what  has  happened  ?  If  I  have 
been  reticent  on  family  matters,  it  was  only  that 
one  near  and  dear  to  me,  for  all  his  folly,  might 
meet  you  unembarrassed,  and  keep  his  self-respect 
for  a  fresh  start  in  life.  Believe  me,  my  dearest, 
there  is  explanation  for  my  silence,  if  you  will  but 
come  and  hear  it.  ESTHER." 

I  think  if  the  madness  of  wrath  against  one  be 
loved  had  not  been  working  in  Arthur  Esmond's 
brain,  this  poor  little  letter  had  brought  him  to 
Esther  as  fast  as  the  lightning  express  could  carry 
him. 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  175 

But  at  breakfast  that  morning  he  had  sat  next 
table  to  Madame  Vargous,  who  always  went  to 
Washington  for  the  winter,  and  as  she  was  rather 
deaf  and  her  companion  had  to  speak  above  the 
ordinary  conversational  tone  for  her  comfort,  he 
could  not  avoid  hearing  them.  Their  talk  was  all 
about  Bertrand  Coleman's  wedding  and  "  poor  Miss 
Ward." 

"  Indeed,  my  dear,"  Madame  Vargous  said,  as  they 
were  about  to  rise  from  the  table,  "  her  best  friends 
say  that  she'll  never  recover  from  the  blow.  I'm  so 
sorry,  for  she  was  a  dear  little  woman,  and  always 
so  sweet  to  me.  But  the  moral  of  it  is  that  a 
woman  should  never  let  go  of  her  heart  in  advance 
of  her  absolute  certainty  of  a  man's  intentions.  We 
women  who  know  the  world,  realize  how  far  a  man 
may  go  without  meaning  anything.  But  evidently 
poor  Miss  Ward  "  — 

Arthur  Esmond  could  endure  no  more. 

As  he  reached  his  room  and  unfolded  and  read 
again  the  note  he  had  been  crumpling  in  his  hand, 
his  face  grew  dark  and  hard. 

Seizing  his  pen  he  wrote  half  a  dozen  lines,  read 
them  carefully  from  force  of  business  habit,  addressed, 
sealed  and  stamped  the  envelope  deliberately,  and 
mailed  the  letter  himself,  too  wroth  to  know  or 
care  that  he  might  better  have  dropped  live  coals 
into  the  tender  hands  that  soon  would  open  to 
receive  it. 


176  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

This  was  what  Esther  read  the  following  morn 
ing : 

"  Esther  Ward,  how  can  you  ask  the  cause  of  my 
absence  and  silence  ?  Who  knows  it  as  you  know 
it  ?  Why  do  you  try  to  mislead  me,  with  the  weak 
evasion  of  your  last  letter  ?  How  can  you  offer  to 
explain  what  is  beyond  all  justification  ? " 

So  her  presentiment  was  realized;  the  worst  of 
her  dreams  was  but  a  faint  foreshowing  of  sadder 
reality ;  the  message  of  the  sad  sea-waves  was  not  an 
idle  fear.  The  happiness  of  love  fulfilled  was  not  for 
her.  The  ring  of  her  betrothal  would  never  shine 
upon  her  hand. 

She  was  accused  of  she  knew  not  what,  and  con 
demned  without  a  hearing  by  the  man  to  whom  she 
had  given  the  love  of  her  heart. 

The  calmness  of  despair  settled  over  her.  There 
was  no  more  to  be  said.  She  opened  her  locket 
and  withdrew  the  ring,  packed  it  up  in  a  tiny  box, 
addressed  it  to  Arthur  Esmond,  and  sent  it,  duly 
registered,  from  the  near-by  station. 

Then  coming  back  to  her  studio  she  confronted 
the  dreary  future. 

"  My  God !  my  God  !  how  can  I  go  on  ?  How  can 
I  ever  face  the  world  again  ?  " 

She  murmured  the  words  with  dry  lips  as  her 
tearless  eyes  turned  to  her  "  Forsaken  Christ." 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  177 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 

IN   THE   HANDS   OF   HER   FEIENDS. 

THAT  afternoon  her  welcome-home  calls  began. 
They  were  not  numerous  after  this  first  day,  but 
she  was  too  sad  to  notice  or  to  care.  Mrs.  Willow 
and  Mrs.  Wise  came  first. 

"  I  wouldn't  dare  to  go  alone.  I  feel  too  bad  for 
her ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Willow,  entreating  her  friend's 
company. 

Esther  rallied  her  forces  and  tried  to  meet  the 
ladies  blithely ;  but  her  cheerfulness  was  overdone, 
and  she  could  not  conceal  the  change  which  this 
direful  week  had  made  in  her  appearance.  Frail  as 
she  had  looked  at  her  departure,  she  was  frailer 
now,  and  there  was  a  look  in  her  eyes  which  no  one 
had  seen  in  them  before. 

The  manner  of  her  visitors  disturbed  her,  too.  It 
was  as  if  they  had  come  on  a  call  of  condolence 
instead  of  congratulation,  she  said  to  herself,  after 
they  had  taken  their  leave. 

But  she  chided  herself.  "  It  is  my  heartsick 
fancy.  They  know  nothing.  How  could  they  ? 
Thank  God  at  least  that  I  was  able  to  keep  my 
own  counsel.  I  shall  be  spared  the  eyes  of  the 


178  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

curious,  and  the  sympathy  that  would  be  harder  to 
bear  than  insult." 

Meantime  Mrs.  Willow  was  saying  to  Mrs.  Wise : 
"Oh,  my  dear,  doesn't  she  look  like  death?  And 
did  you  notice  how  nervous  and  distrait  she  was  ? 
Oh,  /  am  afraid  it's  true  !  I  wouldn't  have  believed 
it,  if  I  hadn't  seen  the  change  in  her." 

"  And  did  you  notice,"  put  in  Mrs.  Wise  eagerly, 
"  that  she  never  named  the  Colemans  ?  I  was  just 
dying  to  say  something  about  them  —  not  to  be 
unkind,  you  know,  but  just  because  of  the  doubt  on 
my  mind  —  but  I  didn't  dare  to." 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't  have  stood  it  a  minute  if  you  had. 
There's  no  use  in  running  a  penknife  in  a  person,  to 
see  if  there's  blood  in  their  body.  I  know  all  I 
want  to  know  now.  That  poor  girl  won't  live  a 
month." 

"Well,  Mrs.  Eay  won't  be  so  bashful,"  rejoined 
Mrs.  Wise.  "  She's  too  polite  to  ask  leading  ques 
tions,  of  course,  but  you  know  her  way  of  bringing 
up  a  delicate  subject  and  harping  on  it,  till  she  sees 
how  the  person  interested  takes  it." 

Both  ladies  laughed  a  little ;  but  Mrs.  Eay  did 
exactly  what  Mrs.  Wise  said  she  would  do,  at 
her  call  on  Esther,  which  followed  close  on  their 
call. 

She  talked  of  Mr.  Coleman's  surprising  secrecy ; 
she  dwelt  on  the  youth  and  beauty  of  the  bride ; 
and  she  took  from  Esther's  brief  and  reserved  an- 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  179 

swers,  as  well  as  from  her  altered  looks,  any  con 
firmation  that  might  possibly  be  lacking  to  the 
gossip  of  our  set. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  at  home  an  hour  later,  "  it 
undoubtedly  was  a  terrible  shock  to  her.  But, 
really,  if  I  were  in  her  place,  I'd  try  to  keep  up 
appearances  by  being  a  little  more  offhand  and 
hearty  in  talking  about  them.  Anyone  can  see 
that  it  is  death  to  her  to  hear  what  a  young  and 
lovely  woman  he  has  married." 

Jane  Coleman  came  last  of  all,  intent  on  giving 
the  first  confidence  on  her  own  happiness  to  Esther, 
whom  she  really  loved  and  trusted  beyond  all  the 
women  of  her  acquaintance. 

But  she,  too,  was  shocked  at  the  ashen  face  and 
hollow  eyes  of  her  friend.  It  was  impossible  not  to 
perceive  that  Esther  was  forcing  herself  to  enter  into 
her  friend's  joy. 

Then  the  faint  suspicion  that  had  once  or  twice 
obtruded  itself  into  Jane's  mind,  as  to  Esther's  pos 
sible  feeling  to  Bertrand,  came  back  strengthened. 

Jane  had  heard  a  little  of  the  current  gossip,  but 
not  so  far  in  a  way  which  obliged  her  to  speak  a 
word  for  herself.  Indeed,  her  thought  till  she  had 
seen  Esther,  had  been  to  smile  at  it  as  mere  foolish 
speculation.  She  remembered  it  now,  and  it  joined 
itself  to  her  revived  suspicions. 

After  all,  what  more  natural  than  that  any  woman 
should  fall  in  love  with  Bertrand  ?  And  Esther  had 


180  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

seen  him  in  his  most  attractive  aspect,  and  had  no 
suspicion  of  the  state  of  affairs  between  him  and 
Miss  Tremaine. 

A  few  days  more  went  by,  and  a  consideration 
far  more  serious  than  her  visibly  diminished  social 
importance  forced  itself  upon  Esther. 

She  was  receiving  no  orders,  and  she  had  but 
little  money  ahead,  in  excess  of  the  three  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  which  she  was  holding  against  her 
note  to  Mr.  Coleman,  which  fell  due  in  March. 

Meantime  the  gossip  gained  in  volume  and 
variety.  Miss  Ward  had  heard  the  news  suddenly 
in  Paris,  and  had  been  found  in  a  dead  faint  with 
Miss  Coleman's  letter  in  her  hand.  It  was  Miss 
Ward's  illness,  and  not  Mrs.  Mint's,  which  had  kept 
the  travelers  away  two  months  beyond  their  expected 
time. 

This  was  Mrs.  Jones'  inference,  promptly  accepted 
as  a  fact  by  many,  and  gaining  much  credit  withal 
from  Miss  Ward's  extreme  delicacy  of  appearance. 

Miss  Ward  was  going  to  live  in  Eome  and  devote 
herself  entirely  to  art,  being  too  heartbroken  to  take 
up  life  again  in  the  old  familiar  scenes.  She  had 
come  home  merely  to  adjust  her  affairs,  and  would 
sail  for  Italy  right  after  the  new  year. 

Miss  Ward  had  been  so  mortified  at  her  own  fool 
ishness  in  making  her  feelings  so  conspicuous  in  the 
matter  of  Bertrand  Coleman's  portrait,  that  she  had 
abjured  art  forever,  and  was  about  to  enter  a  convent 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  181 

of  contemplative  nuns  in  New  York  City.  This  was 
slightly  varied  in  another  report.  She  was  to  enter 
an  order  devoted  to  works  of  mercy,  in  the  city  of 
her  birth. 

These  reports  being  given  out  as  with  authority 
by  several  ladies  who  were  well  acquainted  with 
her,  and  who  claimed  to  be  her  best  friends,  caused 
Miss  Ward  to  lose  a  number  of  orders,  which  admir 
ers  of  her  work  had  been  holding  against  her  return. 

What  was  especially  insisted  upon  by  several  who 
concerned  themselves  most  deeply  in  Miss  Ward's 
affairs,  was  the  way  that  the  Colemans  had  kept  her 
in  the  dark. 

That  Mr.  Coleman  should  have  been  reticent  with 
her  was  not  perhaps  so  strange  ;  but  that  Jane,  her 
intimate  friend,  should  have  allowed  Miss  Ward  to 
go  on  and  really  compromise  her  reputation  for  deli 
cacy  and  good  sense,  was  very  singular,  indeed. 

Mrs.  Willow,  it  is  true,  had  stoutly  protested 
against  this  view  of  the  case  at  first.  She  was  sure 
Miss  Ward  had  not  done  anything  unsuitable.  In 
deed,  she  wouldn't  have  been  surprised  if  she  had 
refused  an  offer  in  that  quarter.  Everyone  knew 
that  she  was  devoted  to  her  art  —  a  statement 
which  of  course  was  received  with  derision  by  Mrs. 
Jones  and  a  number  of  other  matrons  and  maids. 

"  That's  what  all  professional  women  say  who 
have  failed  to  get  a  husband,"  said  Mrs.  Jones. 

But  even  Mrs.  Willow  could  not  reiterate  this 


182  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

defence  after  she  had  seen  Esther,  and  noted  her 
avoidance  of  conversation  about  the  Colemans,  and 
her  continued  excuses  from  participation  in  her 
friend's  Sunday  evening  festivities. 

Other  people  who  had  courted  Esther  not  so  much 
as  a  successful  artist,  but  as  the  prospective  choice  of 
one  of  the  leading  men  of  the  place,  and  a  future 
social  magnate,  wasted  no  further  time  on  the  pale, 
listless  woman  on  whom  Fortune  had  turned  her 
back ;  and  repeated  the  gossip  about  her,  not  from 
malice,  but  just  to  make  conversation. 

Mrs.  Eay  and  others  spent  much  time  in  discuss 
ing  what  Esther  ought  to  have  done  or  left  undone ; 
and  especially  censured  her  painting  of  Bertrand 
Coleman's  portrait. 

Then,  from  no  one  knew  just  where,  an  uglier 
rumor  arose. 

Bertrand  Coleman  had  been  very  much  taken  with 
Miss  Ward,  and  something  might  have  come  of  it; 
—  but  he  had  heard  something.  There  was  a  very 
peculiar  family  history.  All  was  not  quite  as  it 
seemed  with  Miss  Ward  herself.  She  was  a  woman 
with  a  past.  Who  knew  it?  After  all,  she  was 
here  but  a  few  years.  Where  had  she  come  from  ? 
What  had  she  been  doing  ? 

Wasn't  it  well  that  this  good  man  had  found  out 
things  before  it  was  too  late  ?  Dear  me  !  how  care 
ful  one  should  be  about  strangers  !  Marriage  is  such 
a  serious  thing,  and  it  would  be  so  dreadful  to  get 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  183 

anything  off-color  into  one's  family,  whether  it  was 
a  vice  or  only  a  misfortune. 

Oh  !  those  designing  women  !  And  men  are  so 
simple.  If  only  they  are  flattered  enough  they'll  let 
any  one  pull  the  wool  over  their  eyes. 

It  is  just  to  say  that  Mrs.  Willow  indignantly  re 
pudiated  these  insinuations,  and  dwelt  earnestly  on 
her  long  knowledge  of  the  Ward  family,  their  old- 
time  position  and  means,  etc.  To  be  sure,  she  ad 
mitted  that  there  was  a  wild  streak  in  the  men  of 
the  Ward  family,  and  that  she  never  could  account 
for  the  way  they  went  through  their  money ;  and 
these  admissions  were  tortured  into  an  acquiescence 
with  much  of  the  worst  gossip,  in  a  manner  which 
would  never  have  entered  into  Mrs.  Willow's  kind 
little  heart. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  Jane  Coleman  put  in  no 
defence  of  her  friend ;  but  then  comparatively  little 
of  the  gossip  reached  her  ears  at  this  especial  time. 
She  was  rather  avoiding  the  society  of  her  women 
friends,  having  a  great  desire  to  surprise  them  with 
the  announcement  of  her  engagement  on  the  evening 
of  the  wedding  reception  of  her  brother  and  his  wife. 
She  had  her  hands  full,  moreover,  in  making  her 
brother's  house  ready  for  its  new  mistress,  and  with 
preparations  for  her  own  marriage,  which  was  to  fol 
low  within  a  few  weeks  after  their  return. 

There  was  still  another  reason  why  but  little 
talk  had  reached  this  interested  person ;  the  happy 


184  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WOELD 

solution  of  her  own  future  being  as  yet  a  secret,  her 
friends  believed  that  she  would  be  very  sensitive  on 
the  matter  of  leaving  her  brother.  Moreover,  Jane 
was  not  backward  in  repelling  in  short,  sharp  meas 
ure  anything  like  impertinent  curiosity  about  her 
family  or  personal  matters  ;  and  the  boldest  gossip 
does  not  like  to  invite  a  snubbing. 

She  had  no  confidante  save  Esther ;  but  confiding 
in  Esther  now  was  not  the  dear  delight  which  she 
had  anticipated. 

What  had  wrought  such  a  change  in  this  erst 
while  bright,  sympathetic,  and  eminently  practical 
woman  ?  Jane  was  almost  sorry  now  that  she  had 
asked  Esther  to  be  her  bridesmaid.  Those  sad  eyes 
would  spoil  the  prettiest  wedding  in  the  world. 

But  she  had  asked  her,  and  Esther  had  promised, 
and  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  go  through  with 
it ;  praying,  meanwhile,  that  the  latter  might  change 
her  mind  before  it  was  too  late  to  get  an  effective 
substitute. 

The  more  Jane  thought  of  it,  the  more  her  con 
viction  grew,  that  there  must  be  something  in  the 
rumors  that  connected  the  sad  change  in  Esther 
with  her  brother's  marriage. 

Jane  was  too  loyal  alike  to  her  friend  and  her 
brother  to  talk  over  her  suspicions  with  any  one ;  but 
she  was  not  above  making  an  effort  now  and  then 
to  "  satisfy  her  mind "  on  the  subject  with  Esther 
herself. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  185 

To  this  end  she  often  spoke  of  the  bride,  praising 
her  youth,  her  graces  and  charms  of  every  kind  and 
variety. 

"You  feel  better,  then,  about  her  than  in  the 
beginning,"  ventured  Esther,  feeling  obliged  to  say 
something.  But  Jane  had  forgotten  that  she  ever 
held  her  brother's  choice  in  anything  but  sisterly 
affection ;  and  Esther  remembered  with  sympathy 
the  man  who  had  complained  to  her  once  that  he 
never  could  understand  women. 

Jane  described  to  Esther  the  wedding  gifts  that 
had  come  in  so  numerously,  and  though  she  was 
proud  to  say  that  most  of  them  had  come  from  her 
brother's  friends,  still  she  would  not  allow  it  to  be 
thought  that  the  bride  had  not  also  friends  of  high 
station  to  remember  her. 

When  she  described  the  casket  of  jewels  which 
was  the  bridegroom's  gift,  Jane  thought  that  Esther 
winced.  So  she  did,  but  not  for  the  reason  that 
Jane  suspected. 

However,  as  the  latter  was  not  cruel,  she  con 
cluded  that  her  mind  was  satisfied ;  and  dropped  the 
subject  of  her  brother  and  his  bride  for  one,  after 
all,  more  congenial  —  her  own  happiness  and  her 
plans  for  her  wedding,  the  wedding  journey,  and 
her  future  home. 

She  would  be  married  very  quietly  from  her 
brother's  house  on  the  seventh  of  February.  They 
would  sail  immediately  for  Naples ;  remain  in  Italy 


186  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

till  May,  come  back  by  way  of  Paris  and  London, 
and  make  a  little  trip  through  Ireland. 

She  supposed  she  wouldn't  fear  the  voyage  so 
much  as  usual  this  time;  the  Major  had  such  a 
way  of  keeping  up  one's  courage,  and  making  one 
forget  one's  self.  Then,  Mother  Margaret  Mary  had 
promised  that  the  nuns  would  say  special  prayers, 
and  sing  the  "  Ave  Maris  Stella "  right  through  for 
them  every  day  of  their  outgoing  and  returning 
voyage;  and  three  priests,  friends  of  theirs,  were 
crossing  with  them. 

So  Jane  prattled  on  by  the  hour  to  Esther,  and 
felt  a  little  annoyed  sometimes  that  the  latter  was 
not  more  responsive. 

Esther  in  her  now  numerous  hours  of  solitude 
tried  to  finish  her  St.  Dorothea,  but  her  interest  in 
the  picture  was  gone.  The  conception  of  the  sub 
ject  which  had  seemed  to  her  in  the  spring  original 
and  beautiful,  seemed  now  flat  and  spiritless. 

Mrs.  Mint,  who  was  always  practical  in  her  dem 
onstration  of  friendship,  thought  that  nothing  could 
better  divert  Esther's  mind  from  her  own  disappoint 
ment  than  plenty  of  hard  work,  and  was  shocked 
when  she  discovered  that  her  young  friend  had  no 
work  to  do. 

It  showed  the  fine  nature  under  the  somewhat 
rough  exterior,  that  Mrs.  Mint  waited  a  few  days 
before  approaching  this  important  subject. 

Then  she  bustled  in  as  if  there  were  no  time  to 
be  lost. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  187 

"  Esther,  I  want  a  copy  of  your '  Forsaken  Christ ' 
just  as  fast  as  you  can  do  it  well  for  me.  It  is 
the  order  of  a  friend.  You  know  it  would  never 
be  my  choice."  Then,  carelessly  :  "  The  money  has 
been  put  in  my  hands  for  it,  and  you  may  as  well 
relieve  me  of  it,  as  I  hate  to  carry  other  folk's  cash 
about  me." 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Mint !  "  cried  Esther,  blushing  scarlet 
at  this  generous  subterfuge. 

Mrs.  Mint  turned  on  her  in  such  well-feigned 
indignation  at  having  her  word  doubted,  that  Esther 
finally  was  convinced  that  she  had  made  a  mistake, 
and  was  undertaking  a  genuine  order. 

"  She  saw  right  through  me,  the  little  tinker ! " 
said  Mrs.  Mint  afterwards  to  Martha,  "  but  I  stood 
by  my  guns  like  a  soldier.  There's  where  I  think 
it's  right  to  lie.  Of  course  I  know  Father  Herman 
wouldn't  agree  with  me,  but  one  has  to  follow  one's 
conscience." 

"  Quite  so,  ma'am,"  said  Martha,  with  some  in 
terior  amusement  at  Mrs.  Mint's  theology. 

Even  as  a  copyist  Esther's  hand  seemed  to  have 
lost  its  cunning,  and  as  the  replica  grew  slowly 
under  her  brush,  she  wondered,  with  a  chill,  sick 
fear,  if  she  would  indeed  be  able  to  finish  it. 

Esther  Ward  was  a  reasonable  woman ;  so  she 
took  herself  severely  to  task  for  the  thought  that 
people  looked  curiously  at  her  as  she  entered  or  left 
St.  Mary's  Church  on  Sundays. 


188  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

"  Indeed,  I  must  be  ill  when  I  am  so  foolish  as  to 
imagine  that  anyone  is  noticing  me,"  she  said  —  but 
the  thought  came  again  and  again,  despite  her  best 
efforts. 

She  certainly  was  not  well.  The  strain  of  watch 
ing  and  waiting;  the  pain  of  hope  deferred;  the 
anguish  of  the  destruction  of  her  house  of  love,  had 
preyed  upon  her  strength. 

While  she  knew  that  Arthur  Esmond  was  in 
reach  of  letter  or  telegram,  hope,  which  dies  so  hard 
in  us,  would  fitfully  reassert  itself.  Surely  he  would 
discover  his  mistake ;  surely  he  would  unsay  those 
hard  words  that  so  cruelly  wronged  her  loyal  and 
patient  love. 

But  when  she  saw  that  he  had  refused  a  position 
in  the  city  of  her  home  —  they  had  both  known  the 
offer  was  coming,  and  had  built  upon  it  —  in  favor 
of  one  in  far-away  Japan,  then,  indeed,  she  felt  that 
hope  was  vain,  and  justice  unlikely  till  she  had 
ceased  to  care  for  earthly  things. 

If  I  were  inventing  a  little  story  whose  prime 
purpose  was  edification,  I  would  tell  my  readers 
here  of  Esther's  prayerful  resignation  to  the  calamity 
which  had  befallen  her.  But  to  be  true  to  life  I 
must  tell,  rather,  that  for  all  the  days  that  the 
shadow  of  coming  sorrow  was  lengthening  over  her, 
for  all  the  days  that  a  spark  of  hope  survived  in 
her  heart,  her  prayer  was :  "  0,  my  Father,  let  this 
chalice  pass  from  me  ! " 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  189 

And  when  it  did  not  pass,  but  was  pressed  mo 
mently  to  her  shrinking  lips,  her  word  to  Heaven, 
from  dawn  to  dark  and  through  the  night-watches, 
was  :  "  Why,  my  God,  why  ?  " 

She  told  herself  that  for  her  sins  she  deserved  any 
suffering  that  could  possibly  come  upon  her ;  but  her 
reason  answered  that  this  was  true  of  all  poor  sin 
ners.  This  sorrow  was  not  the  logical  outcome  of  a 
sin.  It  could  not  then,  she  reasoned,  be  God's  will. 
Why  was  it  His  permission  ? 

It  was  a  test  for  heroic  faith. 

So  you  see  that  Esther  was  not  at  all  like  the 
devout  heroines  of  certain  Sunday-school  books,  who 
are  saints  from  the  start ;  but  a  poor  little  nat 
ural  woman,  thirsting  for  a  full  draught  of  that 
earthly  happiness  of  which  she  had  barely  tasted ; 
and  overvaluing  it,  as  the  child  overvalues  the  long- 
coveted  toy  that  is  snatched  from  him  just  as  he 
has  grasped  it,  and  broken  in  his  sight. 

Yet  Esther  was  an  earnest  Catholic,  too  deeply 
thoughtful  and  analytic  of  her  own  mental  proc 
esses  to  dare  to  take  upon  her  lips  a  prayer  which 
found  as  yet  no  echo  in  her  heart ;  and  though  she 
abased  her  soul  before  her  Maker,  all  lowly  as  the 
clay  before  the  potter,  she  was  too  honest  with  her 
self  to  utter  aught  but  what  she  felt,  before  the  All- 
Knowing,  who  is 

"  Closer  to  us  than  breathing, 
And  nearer  than  hands  or  feet." 


190  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

It  was  the  liturgy  of  Bethlehem  in  the  Church, 
but  of  G-ethsemane  in  her  heart,  and  she  could  not 
say :  "  Thy  will  be  done." 

"I  guess  the  folks  don't  know  you're  home  yet, 
Miss  Ward,"  said  her  housekeeper,  as  she  came  in 
with  Esther  from  their  Communion  Mass  on  Christ 
mas  morning,  and  the  latter  glanced  at  the  poor 
little  array  of  gifts  on  the  table  in  her  studio. 

A  year  ago,  her  faithful  attendant  had  complained 
to  one  of  her  cronies  that  she  had  been  "  most  run 
off  her  feet  with  waitin'  on  the  door  to  take  in  bas 
kets  and  boxes  and  bundles  of  everything  you  could 
think  of,  that  folks  were  sendin'  to  Miss  Ward." 

Indeed,  her  little  home  had  been  beautiful  with 
all  manner  of  Christmas  thoughtfulness,  and  gay 
with  flowers  that  day  and  for  many  days  thereafter. 
But  few  and  far  between,  out  of  all  who  had  remem 
bered  her  a  year  ago,  were  those  who  had  kept  her 
hi  mind  today. 

Esther  thought  of  the  long  and  loving  letter,  the 
cablegram,  and  the  splendid  gift  that  had  greeted  her 
from  Arthur  Esmond  on  Christmas  morning  a  year 
ago;  and  she  saw  not  what  she  did,  as  she  cut  the 
strings  of  the  few  little  boxes  or  slit  the  card  enve 
lopes  before  her. 

After  all,  what  mattered  it  any  more  who  remem 
bered  or  who  forgot  ? 

Jane  Coleman  wrote  her,  with  a  little  silver  stamp- 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  191 

case,  that  she  had  been  making  her  the  prettiest 
centerpiece  for  her  dining-room  table ;  but  with  the 
turn  affairs  had  taken,  it  had  to  be  laid  aside  till 
after  her  wedding  journey ;  for  now  her  hands  and 
her  heart  were  so  full. 

Mrs.  Willow  sent  her  a  pair  of  slippers,  writing 
that  she  felt  just  now  her  dear  friend  would  like 
something  personal;  and  Mrs.  Kay  sent  the  chil 
dren's  photographs,  writing  that  "  under  present  cir 
cumstances  "  she  felt  dear  Miss  Ward  would  like 
them  for  their  associations,  and  also  because  they 
were  portable. 

Esther  read  these  last  two  notes  with  mild  sur 
prise.  Why  should  "  personal "  or  "  portable  "  ob 
jects  be  more  to  her  now  than  at  any  past  time  ? 

But  as  a  gift  was  dear  to  Esther  only  as  rep 
resenting  the  loving  thought  of  the  giver,  she 
concluded  that  the  unwonted  explanations  meant 
nothing  in  particular ;  and  setting  the  little  Rays' 
pictures  upon  her  desk,  prepared  for  the  ordeal  of 
Christmas  dinner  and  the  children's  Christmas-tree 
at  her  brother's  house. 

She  had  begged  him  to  devise  some  excuse  to 
Mollie  —  who  knew  nothing  of  her  sad  experi 
ence  —  and  allow  her  to  spend  the  day  in  retire 
ment  ;  but  partly  under  the  mistaken  notion  that 
the  household  festivities  would  divert  Esther's  mind, 
and  partly  because  his  little  boys  had  set  their 
hearts  on  having  her,  Joe  would  not  further  her 
plan. 


192  THE  WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

"  Esther,  you  have  borne  up  under  so  many  hard 
things,"  he  said,  "bear  up  under  this  now.  It  is 
worst  of  all  for  you  to  be  [alone  with  your  own 
thoughts." 

So  Esther  went,  and  frolicked  with  the  baby,  and 
praised  Mollie's  Christmas  dinner,  and  helped  unload 
the  Christmas  tree,  and  told  Christmas  stories  till 
she  was  hoarse,  to  her  insatiable  little  nephews,  and 
thanked  Heaven  when  another  day  dawned  and  she 
could  get  back  to  her  city  solitude. 

Yet  perhaps  her  brother  was  right,  she  mused,  as 
she  vainly  tried  to  apply  to  her  copy  of  the  promised 
picture.  She  must  overcome  this  disposition  to  mor 
bid  thought.  She  must  work  while  life  was  left, 
though  certainly  her  power  of  concentration  on  any 
subject  but  her  sorrow  was  greatly  weakened. 

Why  should  she  shrink  like  this  from  meeting 
her  fellow-creatures  —  her  friends  ? 

There  would  be  reason  in  it  if  she  had  been  so 
foolish  as  to  have  confided  her  engagement  to  any 
of  them ;  but  as  it  was,  there  was  nothing  to  be 
explained. 

It  was  purely  a  morbid  notion  on  her  part  that  of 
those  who  had  come  to  see  her,  only  Mrs.  Ormond 
had  behaved  naturally. 

Her  friends  had  not  fallen  away  from  her.  It 
was  she  who,  by  her  severe  seclusion  since  her  return 
from  Europe,  had  fallen  away  from  them. 

No  doubt  Ellen  was  right.  Half  her  friends  were 
not  aware  of  her  return. 


AND   OTHEK  WAYS.  193 

Going  mechanically  over  her  mail,  she  came  on 
the  card  announcing  the  usual  holiday  entertainment 
of  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula  on  the  thirtieth. 

Yes.  Here  was  the  point  for  a  new  departure. 
She  would  go.  Why  not  ? 

It  was  a  crisp,  bright  winter  afternoon  ;  and  her 
brisk  walk  to  the  assembly  rooms  brought  a  slight 
color  to  her  cheeks.  She  had  taken  a  little  more 
than  ordinary  pains  with  her  toilet;  and  looked  very 
sweet,  refined  and  frail,  thought  Mrs.  Ormond,  as  she 
came  in  alone  to  the  parlors,  gay  with  evergreen  and 
holly,  and  already  filled  with  a  merry,  talkative  crowd 
of  stylish  women  and  girls. 

The  "  call  to  order  "  had  not  yet  been  given,  but 
as  Esther  was  seen  approaching  a  group  of  the 
Daughters,  a  hush  fell  upon  them  with  a  sudden 
ness  and  completeness  which  had  never  been  achieved 
by  Miss  May's  olivewood  and  silver  gavel. 

It  was  so  marked  that  Esther,  for  once  thrown  off 
her  guard,  stood  for  a  second  irresolute  and  aston 
ished.  Then  as  she  turned  to  the  group  just  across 
the  aisle,  the  same  thing  befell. 

Mrs.  Ormond,  who  had  been  watching  her  with 
anxious  eyes,  while  striving  to  detach  herself  from  a 
clinging  young  person  at  the  head  of  the  hall,  now 
moved  toward  Esther  with  cordial  greeting,  and 
hurried  her  up  to  a  seat  in  the  front  between  her 
self  and  Mrs.  Mint.  The  same  palpable  silence,  the 
same  curious  gaze  followed  them. 


194  THE  WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

Esther's  brain  whirled ;  but  she  was  hardly  seated 
when  Miss  May  advanced  to  her  place,  gave  the  sig 
nal,  and  the  little  programme  of  essays  and  Christ 
mas  poems,  interspersed  with  Christmas  carols, 
began. 

"  Take  me  home,  for  Heaven's  sake,  just  as  soon 
as  this  is  over,"  whispered  Esther  to  Mrs.  Mint,  as 
the  programme  drew  to  its  last  number;  and  with 
a  hurried  greeting  to  Miss  May  they  crossed  to  the 
dressing-room,  and  made  their  way  out  by  the  pri 
vate  entrance. 

"  You  are  not  well ;  can't  we  come  in  and  do  some 
thing  for  you  ? "  entreated  Mrs.  Ormond,  as  the  car 
riage  stopped  at  Esther's  door ;  but  she  assured  them 
it  was  but  a  trifle,  and  begged  not  to  detain  them 
from  their  dinner  engagement. 

So  scrupulous  were  these  two  otherwise  strangely 
mated  friends  of  Esther,  in  regard  to  her  feelings, 
that  they  refrained  from  discussing  the  occurrence. 

Esther  never  closed  her  eyes  that  night.  What 
did  it  all  mean  ?  Evidently  something  of  her  affairs 
was  known  ;  but  what  ?  and  how  ? 

Her  flesh  tingled  as  she  went  over  and  over  again 
her  experience  at  the  Christmas  festival  of  the 
Daughters  of  St.  Paula,  and  saw  above  it  all,  in  its 
frame  of  smilax,  in  letters  of  light,  the  season's  greet 
ing  :  "  PEACE  ON  EAKTH,  AND  GOOD-WILL  TO  MEN." 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  195 


CHAPTEE   XXII. 

ESTHEK'S  PUZZLE  EXPLAINED. 

AT  last  —  was  it  by  hypnotic  suggestion  ?  —  a 
new  thought  came  to  Esther. 

Why  linger  here,  where  it  was  clear  that  her  for 
tunes  had  fallen ;  and  where,  with  the  depressing 
memory  of  happier  things,  she  could  not  rally  her 
forces  to  reconstruct  them  ? 

She  thought  of  the  peaceful  convent,  where  a 
dozen  years  ago  she  had  been  an  instructor.  The 
nuns  would  welcome  her  back;  and  for  a  season 
she  could  give  special  classes  in  their  own  normal 
school;  and  in  the  holy  and  restful  atmosphere 
regain  something  of  her  lost  power  and  energy. 

She  thanked  God  for  the  thought,  and  in  the 
strength  of  it  rose,  made  her  toilet,  took  her  coffee, 
and  addressed  herself  to  the  completion  of  her  order. 

The  day  was  yet  young  when  Jack  Holmwood 
dropped  in,  and  began  offering  her  suggestions  for 
new  pictures  —  impracticable,  as  all  his  suggestions 
were  wont  to  be,  but  kindly  meant ;  for  he  loved 
Esther  like  a  brother,  and  the  sight  of  her  white  face 
and  sunken  eyes  cut  him  to  the  heart. 

"  It's   no  use,  Jack,"  she   said   at   last,  "  I   can 


196  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 

attempt  no  original  work  now.  I  must  let  my  mind 
lie  fallow  for  a  while.  I  am  going  away  for  six 
months  or  a  year  to  teach  at  Bethany  Convent "  — 

"  And  play  into  the  hands  of  all  those  creatures 
who  are  gossiping  about  you  ! "  cried  Jack,  rising  in 
his  indignant  surprise. 

"  Gossiping  —  about  me  —  Jack  !  "  she  cried 
faintly. 

"  Why,  Esther,  don't  you  know  they  are  ?  Don't 
you  know  what  they  are  saying  about  you  and  Ber- 
trand  Coleman  ? "  — 

"  About  me  —  and  Bertrand  Coleman  ! "  she  re 
peated  with  a  stupefied  stare. 

"  What  do  they  say  ?  —  who  says  it  ? " 

"  Why,  that  his  marriage  has  broken  your  heart  — 
that  it  is  the  cause  of  your  failed  health  and  seclu 
sion  —  that  you  can't  face  the  world  again  —  that 
you  are  going  to  enter  a  coavent." 

"  Oh,  Jack,  who  says  these  things  ?  "  she  moaned. 

"  Why,  who  says  them  ?  Nearly  all  the  women 
you  know  are  saying  them.  Your  story  is  told  at 
everyone's  Day  —  confound  them  and  their  Days  !  — 
at  their  Whist  Clubs,  their  Sewing  Societies,  every 
place  your  name  is  mentioned  where  even  two  or 
three  of  them  have  got  together.  Brace  up,  Esther. 
You  can't  afford  to  throw  away  your  life  like  this." 

Esther  stood  facing  him  now,  with  the  pitiless 
light  of  the  sunshiny  winter  morning  on  her  worn 
face. 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  197 

She  stood  silent,  and  Jack  shifted  uneasily  at  the 
look  of  dismay  and  anguish  with  which  she  regarded 
him. 

"  Esther,"  he  said,  when  he  could  bear  it  no 
longer,  "  perhaps  I  have  done  wrong  to  tell  all  this 
stuff  to  you ;  but  I  thought  you  must  know  it.  I 
thought  it  was  the  cause  of  your  shutting  yourself 
up  alone  here.  I  wanted  to  rouse  your  courage. 
Dear  friend,"  he  cried  desperately,  taking  both  her 
hands  in  his, "  tell  me  that  I  have  not  hurt  you  where 
I  meant  to  help  ! " 

"  Jack,  do  you  believe  these  things  about  me  ? " 
she  asked. 

"  Well,  Esther,  remembering  your  intimacy  with 
the  Colemans,  I  did  think  there  was  something  in 
them ;  but  now,  before  Heaven,  I'll  take  your  word 
against  all  the  circumstantial  evidence  in  the  world." 

"  Jack,  there  is  no  foundation  for  them ;  but 
I  can't  do  anything  to  help  myself  against  them. 
You  say  they  tell  my  story.  They  don't  know  it ; 
and  matters  might  be  worse  than  they  are  if  they 
did.  That  is  all  I  can  say,  Jack." 

"  But  Esther,  you  won't  go  to  Bethany  Convent  ? " 

"  No,  Jack ;  I  will  stay  here  now,  no  matter  what 
comes." 

So  all  were  now  explained:  the  funereal  calls, 
the  furtive,  curious  glances,  the  falling  away  of 
friends,  the  dwindling  of  her  means  of  subsistence. 


198  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WOELD 

She  was  now  in  the  eyes  of  the  little  coterie  who 
had  heretofore  been  so  lavish  of  their  praise  and 
attentions,  simply  that  most  commonplace  and  con 
temptible  of  failures  —  the  ambitious  working  woman 
baffled  in  her  determined  quest  of  a  rich  husband  and 
an  easy  life;  the  woman  who  had  been  too  open  in 
her  preference,  too  ready  with  her  time  and  conver 
sation  for  a  man  who  had  enjoyed  her  as  a  tempo 
rary  diversion,  until  the  hour  had  come  for  the  queen 
of  his  house  and  heart;  or,  at  best,  that  pitiable 
weak  thing  —  the  woman  who  had  given  her  heart 
unasked. 

Now  Esther  knew  why  Mrs.  Willow  so  ostenta 
tiously  avoided  all  mention  of  the  Colemans ;  and 
why  Mrs.  Eay  so  industriously  rang  the  changes  on 
them;  why  Mrs.  Macduff  had  prodded  her  with 
questions  as  to  whether  she  had  been  home  in  time 
to  see  Mr.  Coleman  before  he  went  to  Cleveland ;  and 
when,  and  how,  and  where  she  had  received  the 
news  of  the  engagement;  why  Fanny  Brown  had 
been  so  profuse  in  her  regrets  that  dear  Miss  Ward 
should  have  come  home  just  at  this  time,  when  she 
was  looking  so  delicate,  and  was  so  unable  to  endure 
trying  things  ! 

Esther,  lying  on  the  little  sofa  in  her  studio,  as  the 
short  winter  day  drew  to  its  close,  felt  the  blood  in 
her  veins  now  fire,  now  ice,  as  she  realized  her  terri 
ble  position,  and  writhed  at  her  helplessness  to 
change  it. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  199 

For  what  would  it  serve  her  to  proclaim  the  fact 
that  she  was  not  the  woman  forsaken  of  the  man 
with  whose  name  hers  had  been  coupled,  since  she 
was  the  forsaken  of  another  whose  name  had  never 
been  heard  among  them  ? 

She  went  forlornly  over  every  incident  in  her 
nearly  two  years'  acquaintance  with  the  Colemans. 
Her  conscience  acquitted  her  before  heaven  and 
earth  of  thought  or  word  or  act  disloyal  in  a  woman 
betrothed,  or  unseemly  in  any  woman. 

Her  friendship  with  Bertrand  Coleman  had  been 
absolutely  open  and  above  board.  She  had  never 
written  a  line  or  spoken  a  word  to  him  that  might 
not  have  been  published  in  the  newspapers. 

Indeed,  she  had  never  had  a  private  conversation 
with  him,  except  when  he  came  to  the  rescue  in  the 
case  of  Ned's  defalcation,  and  when  he  freely  and 
most  unexpectedly  gave  her  his  confidence  on  his 
own  love  affair. 

She  had  lived  too  large  a  life  both  in  her  profes 
sion  and  in  society,  to  attach  importance  to  the  little 
attentions  which  kindly  and  courteous  men  offer 
without  a  thought  of  possible  misconstruction  to  any 
agreeable  woman,  or  to  the  friends  of  their  women 
kindred. 

His  effective  intervention  in  behalf  of  her  brother 
was,  of  course,  the  proof  of  a  more  than  ordinary 
good  will ;  and  Esther's  gratitude  was  none  the  less 
for  her  conviction  that  he  might  have  done  as  much 
for  any  one  of  ten  friends,  in  the  same  strait. 


200  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

Then  no  one,  not  even  Jane,  knew  of  this  passage 
in  their  friendship,  nor  how  gratitude  had  warmed 
her  heart  and  brought  enthusiastic  words  to  her  lips 
when  Mr.  Coleman  was  spoken  of  in  her  presence. 

What,  then,  had  gossip  had  to  build  itself  upon  ? 

True,  she  had  eagerly  embraced  the  opportunity 
to  show  her  gratitude  to  the  man  who  had  saved 
her  brother,  and  incidentally  herself,  from  deep  dis 
grace,  by  acceding  to  Jane's  wish  for  a  portrait  from 
her  hand. 

But  what  of  that  ?  Who  knew  that  she  was  not 
filling  an  order  ?  Had  she  not  painted  the  portraits 
of  a  dozen  men  of  every  age  and  condition  ?  To  her 
they  were  simply  subjects ;  to  them  she  felt  herself 
merely  the  artist. 

Long  before  she  had  thought  of  the  graceful 
compliment  of  Bertrand  Coleman's  portrait  for  his 
sister,  Esther  had  made  memory  sketches  of  him, 
slightly  idealized,  for  Theophilus  in  the  picture  of  St. 
Dorothea,  on  which  she  was  already  brooding.  She 
recalled  her  glow  of  artistic  enthusiasm  at  her  first 
sight  of  this  splendid  man  at  Mrs.  Eay's ;  but  she 
knew  that  her  enthusiasm  would  have  been  as 
ardent  and  outspoken  for  a  beautiful  woman  or 
child. 

Ah,  well!  she  would  be  honest  with  herself. 
There  was  one  portrait  from  her  hand  in  which  it 
had  been  nerved  by  something  more  than  artistic 
enthusiasm.  She  had  looked  into  her  own  heart  for 
the  model.  But  it  was  not  Bertrand  Coleman's. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  201 

"  Oh,  Arthur !  Arthur  ! "  she  moaned  ;  "  and  you 
have  left  me  to  this  shame  and  desolation." 

She  rose,  made  the  light,  and  unveiling  with  the 
rod  of  her  torch  the  picture  hung  in  the  alcove  just 
a  little  higher  than  her  hand  could  reach,  gazed  at 
it  long  and  sadly. 

A  handsome  face  it  was,  too,  though  in  strong 
contrast  to  Bertrand  Coleman's  dark  beauty.  A  fair- 
complexioned  man  with  hair 

"  That  made  his  forehead  like  a  rising  sun," 
as  Tennyson  wrote  of  his  blameless  king.  In  life 
the  blue  eyes  were  often  cold  and  the  mouth  stern  ; 
but  he  had  never  showed  this  face  to  Esther ;  and 
her  memory  gave  to  the  canvas  what  it  held, 
glorified. 

It  was  characteristic  of  the  woman  that  now, 
since  all  was  over  between  her  and  Arthur  Esmond, 
she  felt  she  had  no  right  to  this  picture ;  yet  she 
shrank  from  destroying  it  almost  as  she  would  have 
shrunk  from  taking  life.  Had  she  not  breathed  the 
life  of  her  heart  into  it  ? 

Oh,  if  he  had  but  come  to  her,  albeit  in  anger,  one 
sight  of  this  picture  must  have  cleared  his  mind  of 
every  doubt ! 

But  why  did  he  doubt  her  ?  There  was  not  one 
chance  in  ten  thousand  that  any  of  this  miserable 
gossip  had  reached  his  ears. 

He  was  but  twenty-four  hours  in  the  city  of  her 
home,  and  it  was  thence  he  had  cabled  her  on  board 
the  "  New  Amsterdam." 


202  THE  WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

He  had  many  acquaintances  but  few  friends  in 
this  city.  She  had  been  his  only  correspondent. 
There  was  no  time  for  visiting  or  receiving  visits 
during  his  short  stay ;  and  as  no  one  knew  of  their 
engagement,  who  would  dream  of  mentioning  her 
name  to  him  in  any  event? 

So  poor  Esther  reasoned  on  the  sometimes  most 
misleading  basis  of  the  strongest  probability;  but 
only  to  find  herself  striking  once  more  against  the 
viewless  but  most  real  barrier  that  had  so  strangely 
arisen  between  her  and  Arthur  Esmond. 

Then  her  womanly  pride  rose  up,  desperate  at  the 
current  misrepresentation  of  her  position  —  a  mis 
representation  in  which  she  was  now  forced  to 
concur. 

Oh,  if  even  one  wise  and  tactful  friend  had  known 
of  her  engagement,  the  tide  of  mischievous  gossip 
might  have  been  stemmed! 

She  recalled  the  day  when,  pleased  and  proud  at 
Bertrand  Coleman's  confidence,  she  had  been  moved 
from  her  own  wonted  reticence,  and  on  the  point  of 
revealing  her  happy  secret  to  him.  Would  to  God 
she  had  obeyed  this  prompting  of  her  Guardian 
Angel ! 

True,  the  man  had  been  so  full  of  his  own  heart's 
desire  that  he  missed  the  meaning  of  her  timid 
beginning ;  but  she  could  have  written,  and  what  a 
friend  this  chivalrous  man  had  been  in  her  present 
trouble ! 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  203 

Then  with  a  sudden  sickening  accession  of  hor 
ror  came  this  thought:  Had  the  gossip  reached 
him  ?  If  it  had  not  before  his  marriage,  it  would 
certainly  meet  him  and  his  bride  on  their  return ; 
for  her  own  experience  and  Jack  Holm  wood's  revela 
tions  proved  to  her  that  it  was  still  at  high  tide. 

Jack  had  confessed  that  he  himself  had  thought 
there  was  "something  in  it."  So  evidently  thought 
even  those  of  her  friends  who  were  not  among  those 
"  best  friends  "  industriously  circulating  the  gossip. 

What  would  Bertrand  Coleman  think  ?  Of  what 
disposition  was  his  bride  ? 

As  this  vista  of  new  and  humiliating  probabilities 
opened  before  her  Esther  hid  her  face  in  the  cush 
ions,  and  all  the  billows  and  seas  of  pain  and 
shame  swept  over  her. 


204  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 


CHAPTEE   XXIII. 

THE   WEDDING   KECEPTION. 

WHEN  Esther  had  promised  to  vindicate  herself 
by  facing  her  real  bereavement  and  the  current  gos 
sip  and  misconstruction  as  if  they  were  not,  she  had 
overestimated  not  her  will,  but  her  physical  strength. 

Heretofore  she  had  always  been  able  to  find  in 
her  work  a  tonic  and  in  her  trust  in  God  a  comfort, 
till  the  day  of  strain  and  cloud  had  passed.  But 
now  her  hand  had  lost  its  skill,  and  Heaven  was 
shut  to  her  prayer. 

Her  moments  of  feverish  activity  in  mixing  her 
colors  and  arranging  the  lights  and  shades  were 
barren  of  further  result. 

Her  plans  for  her  honorable  extrication  from  the 
web  which  circumstances  had  woven  about  her,  were 
equally  futile. 

She  remembered  her  half-contemptuous  pity  for 
the  women  who  were  constantly  dilating  on  their 
past  matrimonial  chances ;  or  reciting  the  story  of 
their  dead  lovers  ;  or  confiding  to  whomsoever  would 
listen,  some  "  secret "  which  had  been  solemnly  con 
fided  to  them. 

Today  she,  for  saving  her  brother's  honor  and  her 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  205 

friend's  confidence,  and  maintaining  what  she  believed 
to  be  a  self-respectful  reticence  about  her  purely 
personal  affairs,  was  in  a  worse  plight  in  the  eyes  of 
her  little  world  than  the  weakest  self-revealer  or 
the  meanest  betrayer  of  trust. 

"  Why,  my  God,  why  ? "  she  prayed  with  heavier 
heart  than  ever,  marveling  the  while  that  so  much 
sorrow  and  shame  should  come  of  her  best  loyalty 
and  honor. 

She  would  now,  in  this  sore  extremity,  have 
opened  her  heart  to  Father  Herman,  were  it  but  in 
the  hope  that  Heaven  would  grant  to  his  prayers 
the  answer  denied  to  hers  ;  but  though  she  carefully 
chose  the  hour,  his  confessional  was  already  sur 
rounded,  for  it  was  the  eve  of  the  Epiphany  and 
of  the  First  Friday,  besides.  So  she  was  fain  to  be 
satisfied  with  her  ordinary  confession ;  and  though 
the  fatherly  heart  of  the  good  old  priest  ached  for 
his  spiritual  child,  he  knew  her  reticent  nature  so 
well  that  he  feared  but  to  increase  her  sorrow  by 
any  word  unsuggested  by  her  own  initiative. 

On  the  Monday  evening  following  was  the  wed 
ding  reception  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Coleman. 

Esther  would  go  with  the  Ormonds.  Mrs.  Mint 
was  down  with  one  of  her  bad  bronchial  attacks  ; 
and  the  victim  of  her  "best  friends'"  misdirected 
interest  was  too  honest  to  play  the  hypocrite  with 
any  of  them. 

"  Indeed,  she  just  froze  me  out  when  I  went  over 


206  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

and  asked  her  to  come  to  the  reception  with  me," 
complained  Mrs.  Kay. 

"  She  declined  my  invitation  to  take  her,  too," 
said  Mrs.  Willow ;  "  and  it's  quite  a  different  kind 
of  a  note  from  any  I  ever  got  from  her  before.  Now 
you  know,  Sister  Wise,  that  I  held  out  the  very 
longest  against  believing  things,  and  I  don't  believe 
some  things  even  yet.  Now  if  I  had  been  like  Mrs. 
Jones " — 

"  Mrs.  Jones  was  always  prejudiced  against  her," 
said  Mrs.  Wise. 

"  I  should  think  she'd  be  glad  to  have  women  of 
our  position  make  of  her  just  as  if  nothing  had 
happened,"  went  on  Mrs.  Eay,  a  little  querulously; 
"  but  she  was  always  as  high-strung  and  sensitive 
as  if  she  were  a  princess." 

"  Perhaps  she's  not  going,  after  all,"  ventured  Mrs. 
Wise. 

"  Oh,  she'll  go  if  it  killed  her,"  rejoined  Mrs. 
Eay.  "  Mrs.  Jones  is  going  to  stand  right  up  by  the 
bride  and  groom  till  after  Miss  Ward  has  offered 
her  congratulations." 

"Now  that's  downright  cruel,"  commented  Mrs. 
Willow ;  "  though  of  course  we'd  all  like  to  see  how 
nicely  she  does  it." 

"I  hope  she  won't  go,  poor  thing,"  sighed  Mrs. 
Wise,  with  real  feeling. 

Indeed  Mrs:  Ormond,  with  all  her  kindness  and 
tact,  did  her  best  to  dissuade  Esther  from  attending 
the  reception. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  207 

"  Of  course,  dear,  it's  natural  you  would  like  to 
be  with  your  friends  that  evening,  but  you  really 
don't  look  well  enough  ;  and  there's  sure  to  be  a 
crush." 

But  Esther  had  been  spared  nothing.  A  number 
of  other  friends  considered  it  their  duty  to  tell  her 
the  most  humiliating  and  cruel  of  the  stories  in  cir 
culation  about  her,  which,  of  course,  lost  nothing  in 
the  telling ;  and  she  had  received  through  the  mail, 
addressed  in  a  disguised  hand,  a  marked  copy  of 
Social  Events. 

Noting  the  date  of  it,  she  saw  that  it  was  of  the 
week  of  Arthur  Esmond's  brief  stay  in  the  city. 

"  But  he  wouldn't  touch  a  paper  like  this  with  a 
ten-foot  pole,"  thought  the  loyal  woman. 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Ormond,  I  will  surely  go,"  she  said 
quickly ;  "  unless,  indeed,  you  have  some  personal 
reason  for  not  wishing  to  take  me." 

For  all  answer  her  friend's  arms  were  about  her. 

"  We'll  drive  over  and  get  you  at  eight  o'clock," 
she  said. 

The  Coleman  residence  was  ablaze  with  light 
from  attic  to  basement.  The  florists'  deft  hands, 
directed  by  Jane's  exquisite  taste,  had  achieved 
decorative  effects  never  before  equalled  at  any 
festive  occasion  in  our  set. 

In  the  spacious  front  hall  and  dining-room  were 
the  evergreen,  holly  and  ivy  of  the  Northern 


208  THE    WAY   OF   THE   WORLD 

Christmas,  harmonized  with  the  palms  and  foliage 
plants  of  the  tropics. 

In  the  double  drawing-room  above  there  were 
only  palms,  myrtles  and  roses. 

It  was  roses,  roses  everywhere;  great  Jacque 
minots  just  opened  or  budding  into  bloom,  and  fill 
ing  the  warm  air  with  their  delicious  fragrance. 

The  music  floated  up  through  the  house,  never  too 
gay  nor  overpowering,  but  dreamy  and  sweet,  and 
with  the  joy  that  is  almost  pain  breathing  through 
its  cadences.  It  was  music's  golden  tongue,  flatter 
ing  to  tears,  like  that  which  Madeline  heard  ere  she 
lay  down  to  dream  on  St.  Agnes'  eve ;  and  for  a  little 
space  it  soothed  Esther's  sad  soul  tenderly. 

Mrs.  Ormond  had  planned  to  come  and  go  early, 
for  Esther's  sake.  As  they  rejoined  Mr.  Ormond 
at  the  drawing-room  door,  however,  she  saw  that  a 
goodly  array  of  guests  were  already  gathered. 

They  moved  slowly  up  to  the  farther  end,  where 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Coleman  were  stationed,  Jane  and 
Major  McAlpine  —  the  news  of  whose  engagement 
had  somehow  filtered  out  without  a  formal  an 
nouncement —  receiving  with  them. 

Esther  knew  that  many  a  curious  and  not  too 
kindly  gaze  would  be  upon  her ;  and  she  who  had 
not  heretofore  known  the  meaning  of  self-conscious 
ness,  had  planned  —  poor  heart !  — with  what  calm 
dignity  she  would  bear  it,  and  just  what  her  words 
of  greeting  would  be  to  the  bride  and  groom. 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  209 

She  had  never  reckoned  on  the  battery  of  eyes 
that  bore  down  upon  her  as  she  lifted  her  own  at 
the  announcement  of  her  name,  and  extended  her 
hand  in  greeting  to  the  bride. 

Mrs.  Jones  had  been  as  good  as  her  word.  She 
was  standing  almost  in  line  with  the  bridal  party ; 
and  perhaps  a  dozen  more  of  the  best-known  ma 
trons  and  maids  of  our  set  were  grouped  at  each 
side  of  it. 

Esther  flushed,  paled  and  trembled,  and  her  greet 
ing  was  inaudible.  The  bride's  finger-tips  touched 
her  palm,  but  Bertrand  Coleman  took  her  hand  into 
his  strong  grasp,  and  beaming  with  pleasure  said  to 
his  wife  : 

"Miss  Ward  is  one  of  our  dearest  friends, 
Annette." 

Whereupon  the  bride  flashed  forth  her  sunniest 
smile,  and  put  out  her  hand  again  with  real  cor 
diality.  But  from  Esther's  pale  lips  no  audible 
word  came,  for  the  eyes  pierced  her  to  the  bone, 
and  she  was  conscious  of  a  faint  titter  in  Mrs. 
Jones'  neighborhood. 

Bertrand  Coleman  had  noticed  her  momentary 
embarrassment,  but  not  its  cause,  and  had  certainly 
done  his  best  to  cover  it.  So  had  the  bride,  but 
with  that  slight  impatience  which  a  young  and 
beautiful  woman  would  naturally  feel  at  the  thought 
of  such  a  shy,  ghostlike  creature  as  the  woman  who 
had  just  passed  before  her  ever  having  loved  or 
been  loved. 


210  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

The  Ormonds  and  Esther  made  way  for  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Brown  and  their  daughter  Fanny,  the  last- 
named  of  whom  had  devoured  the  meeting  over  Mr. 
Ormond's  shoulder  with  greedy  eyes. 

"  What  roses,  Mrs.  Ormond !  did  you  ever  see  the 
like  ? " 

"  The  bride  is  a  perfect  June  rose  herself.  Don't 
you  think  so,  Miss  Ward  ?  " 

It  was  Mrs.  Jones  who  spoke,  and  Esther  had 
quite  recovered  her  composure. 

"  I  think  she  is  a  very  lovely  girl,"  she  answered 
quietly. 

"Aren't  they  just  made  for  each  other?"  cried 
Mrs.  Wise,  with  enthusiasm.  "  I  always  said  he  was 
a  king  among  men,  and  now  he  has  found  a  queen 
among  women.  Don't  you  think  so,  Miss  Ward  ? " 

Queenly,  however,  was  hardly  the  descriptive  term 
for  the  dainty  blonde,  scarcely  five  feet  two,  who 
was  to  her  stalwart  husband  like  a  statue  of  Parian 
marble  beside  a  majestic  bronze. 

Very  beautiful  were  the  rose-tints  of  her  delicate 
skin,  her  soft,  curling  hair  of  childish  gold,  her  great 
blue  eyes,  and  the  smile  that  made  such  enchanting 
dimples  in  her  cheeks  and  prettily  rounded  chin; 
but  there  was  slight  suggestion  of  strength  of  mind 
or  character. 

Esther  answered  again  :  "  She  is  a  very  lovely  girl, 
and  they  are  most  happily  contrasted." 

Mrs.  Bay  caught  Mrs.  Jones'  eye  on  the  words. 


AND  OTHEK   WAYS.  211 

"  You  notice,"  whispered  the  latter,  "  that  it  just 
chokes  her  to  say  a  good  word  of  the  bride." 

Mrs.  Willow  was  in  the  group  which  had  nearly 
closed  around  Esther,  detaching  her  somewhat  from 
the  Ormonds ;  but  she  said  nothing ;  and  once  she 
had  caught  Esther's  reproachful  eyes  upon  her, 
heartily  wished  that  her  curiosity  had  not  got  the 
best  of  her  good  feeling  earlier  in  the  evening. 

She  attempted  a  diversion  now. 

"If  you  haven't  seen  the  presents  you  ought  to 
go  down  now  to  the  library,  while  the  crowd  is  up 
here." 

"  I  am  going  with  Mrs.  Ormond  directly,"  an 
swered  Esther  coldly,  as  her  friend  finally  succeeded 
in  wedging  herself  back  to  her  between  the  portly 
forms  of  Mrs.  Jones  and  Mrs.  Eay. 

The  ladies  were  silent  till  the  retreating  figures 
were  beyond  earshot. 

"  She  would  have  made  a  bad  break  but  for  Mr. 
Coleman,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  with  a  dry  chuckle. 

"  He  certainly  is  a  perfect  gentleman ;  but  I  sup 
pose  he  felt  sorry  for  her,"  suggested  Mrs.  Macduff. 

"  Don't  you  think  it  was  so  many  people  staring 
at  her  that  embarrassed  her  ? "  put  in  Mrs.  Willow. 
"  I  felt  rather  mean  myself  when  she  looked  up  that 
time,  so  kind  of  startled  and  pitiful." 

"  Oh,  pshaw !  Mrs.  Willow,  you  are  much  too 
sentimental,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  moving  off  to  another 
group,  where,  it  may  be  added,  she  was  far  less 


212  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WOELD 

ardent  in  her  praises  of  the  bride  and  groom,  and 
even  confided  to  one  of  the  matrons  that  she  had 
always  thought  Bertrand  Coleman  a  man  of  sense 
until  this ;  that  the  evident  disparity  in  their  years 
was  something  shocking ;  that  Jane  had  done  well 
to  take  this  chance,  as  it  was  of  a  certainty  her  last ; 
and  that  she  had  thought  better  of  the  Colemans 
than  the  meanness  of  a  wedding  reception  without 
wine,  but  she  supposed  they  had  to  have  it  so,  for  fear 
that  the  Major  would  make  a  show  of  himself. 


AND  OTHEK   WAYS.  213 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A  HARVEST  OF   THORNY  ROSES. 

THE  guests  had  gone,  and  Bertrand  Coleman  had 
betaken  himself  to  the  library,  where,  with  the 
lights  lowered  he  was  enjoying  a  quiet  cigar,  while 
his  wife  and  sister  lingered  in  the  drawing-room  for 
a  desultory  discussion  of  the  events  of  the  evening. 

From  above  floated  the  music  of  the  Major's 
really  fine  tenor,  as  he  sang  the  last  stanza  of  Boyle 
O'Reilly's  "  Jacqueminots." 

My  roses  tell  her,  pleading,  all  the  fondness  and  the  sighing, 
All   the  longing  of  a  heart  that   reaches    thirsting  for   its 

bliss  ; 
And  tell  her,    tell   her,   roses,   that  my  lips    and  eyes    are 

dying 
For  the  melting  of  her  love-look  and  the  rapture  of  her  kiss. 

But  evidently  some  disagreeable  reminiscence  in 
truded  itself  into  the  pleasant  musings  of  this  happy 
bridegroom,  whose  heart  had  been  so  gratified  by  his 
friends'  praises  of  his  Rose  of  the  World. 

He  recalled  the  evident  embarrassment  of  Esther 
Ward  that  evening,  with  the  same  unpleasant  per 
plexity  that  he  remembered  experiencing  for  a  few 
moments,  at  his  last  sitting  in  her  studio  the  preced 
ing  June. 


214  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

Could  there  be  some  truth,  after  all,  in  these 
strange  reports  about  her? 

For  the  gossip  had  been  inescapable  since  his 
return  with  his  bride.  When  it  invaded  his  house 
through  some  of  its  familiars,  he  scouted  it  as  a  gen 
tleman  should,  especially  when  it  took  the  form  of 
solicitude  for  the  life  or  the  mind  of  "the  woman 
forsaken." 

Yet  certainly  it  was  but  the  wraith  of  the  oldtime 
Esther  Ward  that  he  had  beheld  tonight.  He  re 
membered  that  he  had  been  struck  with  the  change 
in  her  appearance  before  she  went  to  Europe  with 
Mrs.  Mint,  but  had  laid  it  all  to  overwork  and  her 
anxiety  about  her  brother.  But  this  further  change 
was  something  appalling. 

Had  this  poor  woman  really  grown  to  care  for 
him  without  realizing  it  ?  to  build,  perhaps,  a  little 
on  the  grave  uncertainties  which  he  had  confided  to 
her ;  and  to  dream  that  in  the  event  of  a  disappoint 
ment  his  heart  might  come  to  her  in  its  rebound  ? 

Now  Bertrand  Coleman  was  not  a  vain  man,  but 
he  was  only  a  man;  and  though  he  would  not  for 
worlds  have  put  these  thoughts  into  speech,  yet  his 
unpleasant  perplexity  began  now  to  be  modified  by 
something  very  like  complacence,  that  so  good  and 
clever  a  woman  as  Esther  Ward  should  be  pining 
away  for  his  sake. 

He  pulled  himself  up  in  a  moment. 

"  Oh,  you   infernal   cad  ! "  he  muttered,  flinging 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  215 

away  his  cigar-stump,  and  holding  out  his  arms  to 
his  wife,  who  was  just  trailing  her  dainty  draperies 
across  the  threshold. 

But  she  stood  off  from  him  coyly. 

"  What  bad  name  were  you  calling  somebody  just 
now  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  I  must  have  been  thinking  of  my  own  vanity, 
Midget,"  he  said,  smiling  lazily. 

"  Thinking  about  Miss  Esther  Ward,  maybe,"  she 
ventured,  with  a  spice  of  mischief.  "  The  idea  of  a 
woman  who  looks  like  that  imagining  that  anyone 
could  possibly  be  in  love  with  her.  She  ought  to 
be  '  making  her  soul,'  as  our  old  nurse  used  to  say." 

"  She  didn't  always  look  like  that,  my  pet,"  said 
the  husband  softly. 

"  Oh,  she  didn't !  Well,"  with  a  malicious  gleam 
in  her  eyes,  "  it's  a  pity  you  didn't  realize  her  beauty 
in  time,  and  do  something  to  save  it." 

"She  was  never  beautiful,  Annette,  though  she 
was  a  pleasing  and  gracious  woman  ;  but  her  beauty, 
if  she  had  been  as  lovely  —  as  yourself  —  would  not 
have  been  my  concern,"  he  rejoined  gravely. 

The  little  bride  tossed  her  head  and  pouted  her 
full  red  lips,  looking  at  him  meanwhile  from  under 
her  cloud  of  golden  curls  like  a  vexed  child. 

"  How  could  she  ever  suppose  that  a  man  like 
you  could  care  for  her  ? "  she  said  at  last. 

"  She  never  supposed  it,  my  dearest." 

"  Well,  everybody  says  she  was  just  wild  about 
you." 


216  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WOULD 

" '  Everybody '  is  a  great  crowd,  child." 

"  You  know  very  well  what  I  mean  ;  all  the  peo 
ple  I've  met  since  I  came  here." 

"They  are  all  wrong,  Annette.  She  never  gave 
me  a  thought,  except  as  a  friend." 

"  Well,  what  made  her  so  nervous  this  evening  ? 
And  why  did  you  single  her  out  beyond  any  one  else 
as  one  of  your  dearest  friends  ? " 

"  I  said  '  our,'  my  darling,"  said  Bertrand  Cole- 
mon  patiently,  evading  the  question  he  could  not 
answer. 

"  I  don't  like  her,  and  I  won't  have  her  for  my 
friend  —  so  there  !  " 

The  man  kept  silence,  and  the  spoiled  child  still 
stood  frowning  and  pouting  at  him.  Then  — 

"  Bertrand !  How  do  you  know  she  wouldn't 
have  had  you  ?  Did  you  ever  ask  her  ?  " 

"  My  dear  little  girl,  no  word  of  anything  approach 
ing  to  love  or  marriage  ever  passed  between  this 
good  and  sensible  friend  and  myself." 

"  Well,  why  did  she  paint  your  picture  ?  Jane 
says  she  did  it  of  her  own  accord." 

Bertrand  Coleman  wished  for  a  moment  that  his 
sister  was  young  enough  to  have  her  ears  boxed. 

"  Miss  Ward  believed  herself  to  be  under  some 
little  obligations  to  us,"  he  said  finally,  "and  this 
was  her  graceful  way  of  acknowledging  them." 

"  I'd  like  to  know  what  they  were ! "  exclaimed  the 
little  beauty  haughtily.  "  You  take  her  part  so,  I 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  217 

can't  help  thinking  you  had  some  secret  between 
you."  / 

"  Annette  ! "  His  voice  was  reproachful  and  al 
most  stern. 

She  still  looked  at  him  from  under  her  curls,  but 
her  frown  had  passed.  She  drew  a  little  nearer, 
but  he  gave  no  sign.  She  laid  one  little  hand  on 
the  arm  of  his  chair,  and  with  the  finger-tips  of  the 
other  touched  his  fingers. 

"  Bertrand ! "  There  were  tears  in  the  uplifted 
eyes  and  her  voice  trembled.  "  Kiss  me  !  I'm  good 
now,"  and  she  put  up  her  lips  like  a  little  child. 

"  But  I  can't  help  it,  dear.  You  had  so  many 
friends  before  I  came  into  your  life  —  and — and 
—  I'm  tempted  —  to  hate  them  all." 

The  man  gathered  her  up  in  his  arms,  and  was 
happy  again  in  reassuring  her  impassioned  and  ex 
acting  love. 

"  Listen,  Annette,"  he  said,  "  Miss  Ward  and  I  had 
one  secret  between  us.  I  told  her  of  my  love  for 
you  long  before  I  dared  to  hope  for  our  present 
happiness.  Is  my  little  wife  and  baby  girl  satisfied 
with  this  confession  ? " 

"  Oh,  Bertrand,  forgive  me  !  I  will  never  doubt 
you  again." 

And  he  knew  she  would  keep  her  word  —  for 
twenty-four  hours,  perhaps. 


218  THE  WAY   OE  THE   WORLD 


CHAPTEE  XXV. 

ESTHEK  BREAKS  SILENCE. 

THE  slight  strength  that  had  carried  Esther  but 
indifferently  through  the  hard  ordeal  she  had  set 
for  herself,  was  all  gone  now,  and  she  lay  languidly 
back  in  the  carriage  beside  Mrs.  Ormond,  taking  no 
part  in  the  conversation  which  this  good  friend  and 
her  husband  considerately  kept  up  for  her  sake. 

She  was  conscious  only  of  grieved  wonder  at  the 
behavior  of  the  women  who  had  so  lately  been  pro 
claiming  themselves  her  friends,  and  to  whom  her 
heart  had  gone  out  in  real  tenderness.  But  she  was 
too  weak  and  tired  for  resentment. 

How  insincere  their  smiles,  and  how  cruel  their 
small,  white,  even  teeth  looked.  And  she  shud 
dered  as  she  thought  how  often  in  past  times  every 
one  of  them  had  kissed  her. 

Of  course  she  was  unjust,  as  people  under  griev 
ous  misconstruction  sometimes  are,  to  all  these 
ladies.  None  of  them  had  the  remotest  intention 
of  cruelty,  nor  supposed  at  all  that  their  especial 
share  in  the  gossip  had  got  back  to  Esther. 

They  merely  had  exercised  what  they  considered 
their  right  to  talk  when  others  were  talking,  and 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  219 

their  natural  and  permissible  curiosity  to  see  how 
Esther  would  bear  herself  in  a  trying  situation. 

Even  Mrs.  Jones,  though  she  had  never  liked 
Esther,  had  not  meant  to  be  cruel  to  her  at  this 
particular  time.  She  had  merely  judged  the  woman 
by  herself,  and  behaved  to  her  as  if  she  were  of 
equally  coarse  fibre. 

The  incident  at  the  reception  had  for  them  all  the 
fascination  of  a  scene  in  a  play  or  a  passage  in  a 
new  novel. 

To  be  sure,  Mrs.  Willow  was  not  entirely  at  ease, 
but  even  she  was  carried  away  finally  by  the  crowd, 
and  went  home  trying  to  silence  her  conscience  by 
getting  up  a  grievance  against  Esther,  who,  she 
declared  to  Mrs.  Wise,  had  positively  snubbed  her 
before  everybody  ! 

Esther  made  no  protest  when  she  heard  the  car 
riage  drive  off  with  Mr.  Ormond,  and  heard  Mrs. 
Onnond  telling  Ellen  that  she  meant  to  spend  the 
night,  and  the  latter's  relieved  utterance  :  "  Oh,  I'm 
so  glad,  for  the  life  and  soul  is  worried  out  of  me 
about  her,  poor  dear  ! " 

Nothing  mattered  any  more  to  Esther.  She  was 
passive  under  Mrs.  Ormond's  kind  hands  as  the 
latter  removed  her  wraps. 

"  And  now,  dear,  I'll  light  up  in  your  bedroom, 
and  get  you  into  your  wrapper,  and  take  out  all 
those  hairpins  "  — 

Something   falling   with    a   crash    arrested    her 


220  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

speech.  Turning  in  the  direction  of  the  sound, 
Mrs.  Ormond  saw  that  the  covered  picture  hanging 
in  the  alcove  had  fallen,  carrying  a  bit  of  the  mold 
ing  with  it,  and  loosening  its  veil. 

She  hastened  to  lift  it. 

"  Why,  Arthur  Esmond ! "  she  cried  in  amaze 
ment.  "  Esther,  do  you  know  Arthur  Esmond  ? " 

The  woman  looked  up  listlessly. 

"  Yes,  I  know  Arthur  Esmond.  I  was  engaged 
to  him,  and  this  was  to  have  been  our  wedding 
day." 

Mrs.  Ormond  sat  down  on  the  sofa  beside  her 
friend,  with  a  whiter  face  than  hers.  But  Esther 
saw  it  not,  nor  noted  the  excitement  in  Mrs. 
Ormond's  eyes  and  manner. 

"  Esther,  tell  me  what  all  this  means.  I  must 
know  it." 

"  I  hardly  know  myself,"  she  answered  in  a  low, 
tired  voice.  "  I  was  engaged  for  nearly  three  years 
to  Arthur  Esmond.  He  thought  it  best  to  have  no 
announcement  till  he  came  on  here  from  Hawaii  this 
Fall.  You  know  how  I  was  delayed  abroad  through 
Mrs.  Mint's  illness.  He  cabled  me  of  his  arrival 
here  the  day  we  sailed  from  Liverpool.  I  have 
never  seen  him  since,  nor  heard  from  him,  except  in 
two  short  notes  from  Washington  in  answer  to  my 
own  letters,  charging  me  with  something,  some  dis 
loyalty  to  him  —  I  know  not  what." 

Her  voice  broke  with  a  dry  sob;  and  Mrs.  Or 
mond's  face  was  full  of  trouble. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  221 

Esther  spoke  again.  "  There  was  something,  a 
family  matter,  on  which,  perhaps,  I  owed  him  a  fuller 
confidence  than  I  gave  him.  It  was  hard  to  write 
it ;  I  was  waiting  till  we  met." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond  anxiously ;  for  Esther 
had  relapsed  once  more  into  a  strange,  lethargic 
silence. 

"  Perhaps  the  thing  I  should  have  told  him  came 
to  him  some  other  way.  .  .  .  What  else  could  it 
have  been  ?  He  was  not  here  long  enough  —  less 
than  twenty-four  hours  —  for  any  of  that  dreadful 
gossip  to  have  reached  him.  .  .  .  You  know.  .  .  . 
about  Mr.  Coleman." 

Mrs.  Ormond's  heart  fairly  bounded,  and  a  faint, 
sickening  sensation  came  over  her.  She  was  begin 
ning  to  understand. 

"  He  knows  so  few  people  here,"  Esther  went  on, 
"  except  in  a  business  way.  He  wrote  me  last  sum 
mer  that  he  had  known  you  before  your  marriage, 
but  of  course  he  had  no  time  for  calls  in  one  day." 

Mrs.  Ormond  kept  silence.  What  use  were  ex 
planations  now? 

"  How  did  it  start  .  .  .  that  talk  about  me  ... 
you  know  ? "  she  asked,  after  a  little. 

"  So  there  was  never  anything  but  friendship 
between  you  and  Bertrand  Coleman  ? " 

Esther  roused  to  a  quick,  indignant  flash. 

"  How  could  there  be  ?  Haven't  I  told  you  I  was 
engaged  to  Arthur  Esmond  ?  Mr.  Coleman  was  very 


222  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WOULD 

kind  to  me  once  ...  in  that  matter  .  .  .  that  I 
should  perhaps  have  explained  to  Arthur.  ...  It 
was  last  March,  when  I  was  in  a  sudden  and  great 
trouble,  and  he  came.  ...  I  am  under  the  greatest 
obligations  to  Mr.  Coleman." 

Last  March !  Mrs.  Ormond  was  a  woman  of 
good  memory  and  keen  insight.  She  thought  of  Ned, 
of  whose  brief  term  with  Frost  &  North  she  knew 
more  than  Esther  dreamed.  Last  March  !  Why, 
that  was  the  time  of  Ned's  abrupt  disappearance. 
The  tangle  was  unravelling. 

She  smoothed  her  friend's  thin,  feverish  hand. 

"It  was  one  day  soon  after,  that  Jane  said  she 
would  like  her  brother's  portrait  from  my  hands.  I 
impulsively  offered  to  do  it  for  her.  ...  I  was  under 
great  obligations,"  she  repeated  wearily. 

"  There  was  no  mystery  about  it.  No  one  knew 
that  it  wasn't  an  order.  Ever  so  many  people 
dropped  in  during  the  last  sittings." 

"  One  word,  Esther,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Ormond. 
"  Did  you  know  that  Bertrand  Coleman  was  going 
to  be  married  ?  " 

"Why,  yes.  He  told  me  of  his  hopes  while 
matters  were  still  very  uncertain  —  I  may  say  that 
much,  now  that  all  is  happily  settled  —  and  wrote 
me  twice  about  the  progress  of  his  affair  while  I  was 
abroad.  Jane  had  told  me  of  it,  too,  in  all  its  stages. 
But  she  was  unhappy  about  it  at  first,  and  there 
were  even  graver  reasons  for  silence  —  and  I  had 
given  my  word." 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  223 

"  You  poor  child  ! "  murmured  Mrs.  Ormond. 

"  What  had  they  to  make  a  story  of  ? "  she  asked, 
with  piteous  eyes.  "I  never  talked  of  my  affairs 
with  any  of  them.  I  never  betrayed  the  trusts  they 
put  in  me,  and  some  of  them  used  to  say  they  were 
my  friends.  I  believed  them.  But  do  friends  de 
stroy  your  life  ?  People  stand  away  from  "me  now, 
as  if  I  had  done  some  wrong.  ...  I  don't  get  any 
more  orders  .  .  .  just  that  since  I  came  back.  .  .  . 
It  isn't  finished,"  she  said  with  a  wan  smile,  indicat 
ing  the  replica  of  "  The  Forsaken  Christ,"  "  but  after 
I  have  had  one  good  sleep  I  will  give  it  the  last 
touches.  What  am  I  going  to  do  ?  When  I  prom 
ised  Jack  Holmwood  I  would  stay,  I  didn't  dream 
how  hard  it  would  be.  Did  you  notice  those  women 
tonight  ?  I  can  see  their  eyes  yet,  wherever  I  look. 
I  never  did  them  any  wrong  .  .  .  they  used  to  be 
my  friends."  .  .  . 

The  brief  animation  had  died  down. 

"  Come,  dear,  I  am  going  to  put  you  to  bed,"  said 
Mrs.  Ormond. 

Esther  rose  languidly.  "  Wait,  I  must  say  a  little 
prayer  first.  Why  has  God  let  me  be  broken  on  the 
wheel  like  this  —  defaced  and  degraded — in  sight 
of  the  world : —  for  my  silence  ?  People  used  to  say 
I  was  proud.  Think  of  me  telling  all  this  ...  I 
never  said  so  much  as  this  before  about  myself  to 
anyone.  But  all  is  over  now  between  Arthur  and 
me,  and  nothing  matters  any  more." 


224  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 

Mrs.  Ormond  sat  for  an  hour  beside  the  bed  bath 
ing  Esther's  hot  forehead.  Finally  her  patient 
feigned  sleep,  and  she  lay  down  half-dressed  on  the 
sofa  near  her,  leaving  only  a  carefully  shaded  lamp 
burning  on  the  little  altar. 

Esther  lay  long  with  wide  open  eyes,  staring  at  the 
shadows.  She  was  no  longer  restless,  but  soothed 
and  quiet.  She  felt  no  shame  that  Mrs.  Ormond 
knew  the  whole  sad  truth.  The  curious  eyes  that 
had  burned  her  very  flesh  a  few  hours  ago  faded 
out.  She  felt  no  more  wonder  nor  pain. 

How  still  the  night  was !  The  faint  gleam  from 
the  lamp  was  suddenly  swallowed  up  in  billows  of 
soft  red-brown,  on  which  she  seemed  to  rise  and 
drift  away,  away  into  rest. 

From  far  off  a  strange,  sweet  Voice  besought  her : 
"  /  have  called  fhee  as  a  woman  forsaken  and  grieved 
in  spirit" 

Fainter  and  sweeter  the  Voice :  "  I  have  called  thee 
as  a  woman  forsaken  "  — 

Then  Esther  rose  up  all  fearless  on  a  great  dark 
red  billow,  and  a  mightier  one  towered  and  broke 
over  her,  blotting  out  consciousness. 

Meantime  Mrs.  Ormond  lay  on  her  narrow  couch, 
almost  fearing  to  breathe  lest  she  disturb  the  sup 
posed  sleeper,  her  own  heart  full  of  pain  and  self- 
reproach. 

Now  she  knew  all.     She  had  heard  Mrs.  Jones 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  225 

discussing  at  the  Daughters  of  St.  Paula  the  dinner 
at  which  Arthur  Esmond  had  been  her  guest ;  for 
she  never  kept  silence  on  anything  which  she  be 
lieved  would  add  to  her  social  importance. 

Arthur  Esmond  had  sought  his  old  acquaintance 
for  some  word  of  reassurance  about  Esther,  and  she, 
Esther's  friend,  had  destroyed  the  last  prospect  of  an 
understanding. 

What  though  she  had  not  the  faintest  knowledge 
of  their  relations  ? 

Mrs.  Ormond  was  stern  in  her  judgment  of  her 
self,  and  could  find  no  excuse  in  her  heart  for  what 
she  now  condemned  as  her  uncalled-for  reference  to 
the  Social  Events'  paragraph  and  Esther  Ward. 

To  be  sure,  she  was  indignant  at  Arthur  Esmond, 
and  marvelled,  as  perhaps  you  marvel,  dear  reader, 
that  a  woman  like  Esther  could  love  this  Puritani 
cal  and  jealous  man. 

"  But  I've  often  wondered  at  the  sort  of  men 
good  women  love,"  she  mused  ;  "  there  is  only  one 
Frederick  Ormond  in  the  world." 

She  wasted  little  time,  though,  in  abstract  re 
flections.  Since  Esther  had  loved,  and  still  loved, 
this  man,  something  must  be  done  to  set  her  right 
before  him. 

"  If  there's  any  good  left  in  him,  he'll  just  be 
scorched  with  shame  when  he  knows  the  truth," 
she  reflected ;  and  she  fully  intended  to  assist  the 
scorching  process  herself. 


226  THE  WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

She  knew  he  was  going  to  Japan ;  but  had  he 
really  sailed  ?  Might  he  not  still  be  in  San  Fran 
cisco  ?  Her  husband  might  be  able  to  ascertain 
that. 

Then,  to  stop  the  gossips'  tongues.  She  knew 
better  than  poor  Esther  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  mischief  they  had  wrought. 

"And  to  think  that  I  had  a  part  in  it,"  she 
whispered  in  an  agony  of  self-contempt.  "  I,  who 
held  myself  so  far  above  them  ! " 

Was  any  reparation  possible  ?  She  would  try  for 
it;  and  with  Mrs.  Ormond  that  meant  it  would  go 
hard  with  her,  or  she  would  achieve  it. 

The  late  wintry  dawn  stole  in  through  the  closed 
shutters.  She  looked  at  her  patient. 

"  Telephone  for  Doctor  Allen  at  once  ! "  she  cried, 
rushing  out  to  Ellen,  who  was  preparing  the  break 
fast. 

Within  an  hour  Ellen  had  subordinated  all  other 
duties  to  the  nursing  of  her  "  dear  lady,"  as  she 
loved  to  call  Esther ;  for  the  experienced  eyes  of  the 
physician  saw  danger ;  and  Mrs.  Ormond  went  home 
to  begin  her  mission  of  reparation. 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  227 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE   TUKN   OF   THE   TIDE. 

IT  was  the  miduionth  meeting  of  the  Daughters 
of  St.  Paula,  and  although  the  weather  was  dis 
agreeable  —  slush  underfoot,  clouds  overhead,  and 
the  unseasonable  warmth  in  the  air  that  comes  with 
the  January  thaw  —  there  was  a  good  attendance. 

Miss  May  was  relieving  the  severity  of  the  regular 
course  on  the  "Ten  Persecutions  of  the  Primitive 
Christians"  by  devoting  this  one  meeting  every 
month  to  a  discussion  of  the  Lyrics  of  Shakespeare. 

The  President  of  the  Aubrey  de  Vere  Reading 
Circle  gave  its  midmonth  meeting  to  current  fiction. 
Miss  May,  although  she  was  much  too  kind  and 
courteous  to  criticise  a  rival  organization,  considered, 
away  down  in  her  heart,  that  there  was  a  frivolous 
streak  in  the  rival  president,  and  it  was  enough  for 
her  to  know  that  Miss  Eleanor  Corey  had  decided 
on  one  course  of  action,  for  her  to  take  the  opposite 
course. 

Miss  May  was  a  splendid  Shakespearian  scholar, 
and  sometimes  so  lost  herself  in  a  dissertation  on 
the  play  assigned  for  study  that  the  programme  of 
regular  work  had  to  be  crowded  or  put  over. 


228  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

It  promised  to  be  so  today,  when  "  Much  Ado 
About  Nothing  "  was  under  consideration.  In  vain 
the  long-threatening  rain  descended  in  torrents, 
blurring  the  window-panes  ;  in  vain  the  phenomena 
of  thunder  and  lightning  in  midwinter.  Miss  May 
placidly  pursued  her  theme  to  the  end,  explaining 
the  motive,  plot,  dramatis  personce,  and  noting  the 
passages  of  the  play  which  have  passed  into  our 
familiar  speech. 

Presently,  however,  the  door  near  the  platform 
opened,  and  Mrs.  Ormond,  appearing  on  the  thresh 
old,  looked  anxiously  at  the  president,  and,  having 
arrested  her  attention,  beckoned  her  out 

Miss  May,  suavely  summoning  the  vice-president 
to  take  her  place  —  for  she  was  a  good  parlia 
mentarian,  unlike  the  easy-going  executive  of  the 
Aubrey  de  Veres  —  disappeared  for  a  few  minutes. 
Certain  of  the  Daughters  promptly  improved  the 
occasion  —  as  nobody  stood  in  awe  of  the  vice-presi 
dent  —  to  interchange  whispers  about  their  calls  on 
the  bride,  some  earnestly  maintaining  that  she  was 
"  a  real  sweet  little  thing,"  but  more  declaring  her 
"  nothing  but  a  little  French  doll." 

Miss  May  returned  presently,  and  Mrs.  Mint  and 
Mrs.  Ormond  following  her,  took  vacant  places  in 
the  second  row. 

Miss  May  stood  in  front  of  the  platform.  Her 
serious  and  sorrowful  face  silenced  in  an  instant  the 
most  persistent  whisperer. 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  229 

"I  have  the  saddest  tidings  ever  given  you  in 
this  place,"  she  said  at  last,  with  unsteady  voice. 
"  Our  dear  friend  and  associate,  Esther  Ward,  is 
at  the  point  of  death.  Our  Holy  Father  has  sent 
her  the  Apostolic  Benediction.  .  .  .  Our  friend  bore 
herself  so  modestly  among  us  that  few  of  us  real 
ized  we  had  in  her  one  of  the  famous  women  of 
our  time.  But  better  than  her  work  was  her  worth 
as  a  sincere,  gentle  and  charitable  woman.  Who 
among  us  has  not  some  personal  reason  to  remember 
her  kindly  nature  ?  Who  among  us  ever  heard  from 
her  lips  a  falsehood,  a  harsh  judgment  or  a  mischiev 
ous  rumor  ? "  .  .  . 

Miss  May  paused  again.  "  The  circumstances  pre 
luding  this  sudden,  and  I  fear  fatal,  illness,  are 
extremely,  I  may  say  incredibly,  sad.  I  beg  of  you 
all  to  pray  for  her." 

Mrs.  Jones  nudged  Mrs.  Willow  as  Miss  May 
resumed  the  chair. 

"  There !  wasn't  I  right  ?  "  she  whispered.  "  You 
see  the  affair  has  killed  her.  It  was  foolhardy  of 
her  to  go  to  the  wedding  reception." 

But  Mrs.  Willow  gave  no  sign.  She  was  crying 
softly,  as  were  several  of  the  younger  Daughters. 

"  We  shall  conclude  the  meeting  with  the  read 
ing  of  the  Lyrics,  already  assigned  to  Miss  Fanny 
Brown,"  announced  Miss  May. 

"  Miss  Brown  ! "  Fanny  came  forward  nervously ; 
dropped  her  pages,  picked  them  up  again,  stumbled 


230  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

over  her  introduction,  but  finally  recovered  herself, 
and  went  on  bravely  to  the  final  lyric : 

"Done  to  death  by  slanderous  tongues," 
she  read,  then  came  to  an  awful  pause. 

The  stormy  winter  afternoon  was  darkening  pre 
maturely,  and  a  spectral  lightning  flash  zigzagged 
over  Fanny's  page.  The  secretary  rose  and  turned 
on  the  electric  lights. 

"Done  to  death  by  slanderous  tongues," 
read  Fanny  again,  and  then  broke  down  ingloriously, 
and  retreated  to  her  place  sobbing. 

There  were  answering  sobs  from  various  parts  of 
the  assembly  room.  The  meeting  was  thoroughly 
demoralized. 

Miss  May  looked  sadder  and  more  troubled. 

She  tapped  with  her  little  gavel : 

"  Will  some  one  kindly  move  adjournment  ? " 

"  I  move  that  we  adjourn,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  rising. 
She,  at  least,  was  tearless. 

Several  smothered  voices  seconded  the  motion. 

Miss  May  tapped  again  for  the  prayer,  asking  all 
to  join  her  in  a  Memorare  for  Esther  Ward. 

Then  the  Daughters  rose,  and  resolved  themselves 
into  groups  about  the  various  windows.  Few  of 
them  were  prepared  to  face  the  storm ;  and  most 
of  them  expected  to  be  called  for. 

Mrs.  Ormond  ^lingered  at  the  desk  with  Miss 
May. 

Mrs.  Mint  stood  moodily  apart,  having  a  window 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  231 

all  to  herself,  whence  to  watch  for  her  carriage, 
which  she  had  ordered  for  five  o'clock. 

Near  her  was  a  group  of  sympathetic  Daughters, 
gathered  about  Fanny  Brown,  who  still  wept  and 
wept,  and  would  not  be  comforted. 

"  Why  is  Fanny  Brown  making  such  a  scene  ?  " 
queried  Mrs.  Jones  petulantly,  standing  at  the  edge 
of  the  group. 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  ? "  retorted  Nannie  Old- 
field,  now  restored  to  paternal  and  social  favor  as 
Mrs.  James  Dillon.  "  Don't  you  know,  Mrs.  Jones  ?  " 
with  wicked  emphasis. 

"Minnie,  dear,"  to  her  old-time  chum,  "get  me 
the  book  off  Miss  May's  desk,  if  you  dare,  and  I'll 
read  the  rest  of  the  Lyric,  till  you  see  how  it  fits." 

Nannie  had  some  grievances  of  her  own  to  redress, 
which  helped  to  direct  her  sympathies. 

Mrs.  Jones  moved  further  in,  uneasily. 

"  I  wonder  what  Miss  May  meant  by  the  '  incredi 
bly  sad  circumstances '  ?  "  Mrs.  Macduff  was  saying. 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  should  wonder  about 
that,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  taking  up  the  conversation. 
"  Haven't  we  all  heard,  and  a  good  many  of  us  seen 
for  ourselves  ? " 

"  No,  that  wasn't  it,"  dissented  Mrs.  Macduff  with 
conviction.  "  Miss  May  would  never  touch  on  any 
thing  of  that  sort." 

"  That's  my  opinion,  too,"  said  Mrs.  Willow,  who 
was  almost  as  tearful  as  Fanny  Brown.  "  Oh,  what 


232  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 

if  we  had  got  everything  wrong  from  the  start  ?  Of 
course  I  was  Esther  Ward's  best  friend,  and  I  was 
always  careful  what  I  said  in  this  business,  but "  — 

"  Well,  I  was  mistaken  in  one  thing,"  faltered  Mrs. 
Macduff.  "  It  seems  the  gentleman  who  used  to  be 
going  back  and  forth  so  much  to  her  studio  evenings 
was  her  brother.  He  was  pointed  out  to  me  the 
other  day,  and  I  saw  where  I  had  blundered.  But 
he  does  look  awfully  like  Mr.  Coleman." 

"  Well,  of  course  it's  barely  possible  I  was  wrong," 
put  in  Mrs.  Kay ;  "  but  if  ever  there  was  anything 
that  looked  like  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight  .  .  . 
Haven't  I  often  told  you,  in  this  very  place"  — 

"Standing  by  this  very  window,"  sighed  Mrs. 
Willow. 

"  How  they  met  in  my  house,  and  what  she  said. 
And  I'd  have  believed  till  my  dying  day  that  she 
never  knew  a  thing  about  Bertrand  Coleman's  engage 
ment,  only  Mrs.  Coleman  herself  told  me  last  week 
that  her  husband  had  made  a  confidante  of  Miss 
Ward.  And  Jane  confided  in  her,  too." 

Mrs.  Mint  had  drawn  near  the  group. 

"  And  you  talked  those  tales  over  with  Mrs.  Cole 
man  ! "  she  exclaimed  indignantly. 

"  Well,  I  guess  I  wasn't  the  first,"  said  Mrs.  Eay, 
bridling  a  little  in  the  midst  of  her  penitence. 

"  But  how  could  anyone  know  they  had  trusted 
her,  when  she  never  gave  the  least  hint  of  things, 
even  to  her  best  friends  ? "  questioned  Mrs.  Willow, 
helplessly. 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  233 

"  I  s'pose  you'd  have  had  her  prove  she  was 
trusted  by  betraying  her  trust,"  snapped  Mrs.  Mint, 
though  she  was  a  little  mollified  by  Mrs.  Willow's 
evident  grief. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Jones  in  her  loftiest  manner,  "  I 
think  this  old  straw  has  been  sufficiently  thrashed. 
Of  course  it's  all  very  pathetic  and  tragical  and  all 
that ;  and  we're  all  very  sorry  that  Miss  Ward  is  a 
victim  of  unrequited  affection  ;  but  it's  better  that 
we  should  do  something  for  her,  rather  than  talk 
about  her.  There  may  be  something  she  needs  —  I 
don't  imagine  she's  got  anything  saved,  the  way  she 
dressed  and  lived.  For  my  part,  I  intend  going  over 
tonight,  and  "  — 

Mrs.  Mint  was  staring  full  at  her  on  these  last 
words,  with  such  a  stern  and  searching  gaze  that  the 
woman  finally  quailed  under  it. 

"  You  I "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mint  (by  this  time  all  eyes 
were  riveted  on  Mrs.  Jones)  "you — oh — you  BUG!" 

A  genuine  insect  of  the  most  offensive  variety, 
dropped  into  that  group  of  refined-looking  and 
smooth-spoken  women,  could  hardly  have  created 
more  consternation. 

Fanny  Brown  snickered  hysterically  through  her 
tears. 

The  others  exchanged  dismayed  and  apprehensive 
glances. 

Mrs.  Jones  attempted  to  extricate  herself  from  the 
group,  but  Mrs.  Mint  effectually  blocked  her  exit. 


234 

"  You  go  to  Esther  Ward  on  her  bed  of  death ! 
Don't  you  dare,  unless  you  go  to  beg  her  pardon  for 
all  the  wrong  you've  done  her !  You've  been  down 
on  that  poor  girl  these  last  two  years,  because  she 
wouldn't  grovel  to  you  and  paint  your  niece's  picture 
for  nothing  "  — 

"  That's  so  !  "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Macduff  under  her 
breath. 

"Who  started  the  falsehood  that  it  was  Esther 
Ward's  illness,  and  not  mine,  that  kept  us  so  long 
over  in  Paris  ?  Who  gave  all  that  stuff  to  the 
Social  Events  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  know  she  was  a  reporter,"  faltered  Mrs. 
Jones. 

"  Didn't  know  it  was  loaded,  eh  ?  That's  a  pretty 
stale  excuse  for  a  woman  at  your  time  of  life.  I 
suppose  you  knew  where  you  were  at,  though,  when 
you  entertained  a  man  you  never  saw  before,  with 
all  your  imaginations  and  inventions,  the  first  time 
he  ever  set  foot  in  your  house." 

"Mr.  Esmond!"  whispered  Mrs.  Eay  to  Mrs. 
Willow  —  "  but  what  could  he  —  oh  ! "  as  Mrs.  Wise 
gave  her  a  glance  of  preternatural  intelligence ;  and 
both  ladies  squeezed  each  others'  hands  until  they 
hurt. 

"I  suppose  you  knew  where  you  were  at  when 
you  wrote  those  letters  to  Baychester,  to  get  the 
history  of  the  Ward  family  raked  up  for  you.  Oh, 
but  we  should  have  clean  houses  ourselves,  before 
we  go  in  to  regulate  our  neighbors' ! " 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  235 

Mrs.  Jones'  face  was  livid.  Everyone  in  the 
assembly  room  was  looking  and  listening  now ;  for 
Mrs.  Mint's  voice  was  neither  low  nor  sweet. 

"  Didn't  you  try  the  same  game  on  me,  when  you 
thought  I'd  lost  my  money — going  about  with  your 
vile  hints  and  insinuations !  Oh,  if  I'd  known  as 
much  about  your  talk  then,  as  I  know  now,  I'd  have 
had  the  law  of  you." 

Mrs.  Mint  paused,  panting. 

"  Mrs.  Mint's  carriage  !  "  announced  the  janitor. 

"  As  for  the  rest  of  you,"  she  concluded,  with  a 
glance  that  took  in  the  whole  group,  "  haven't  you 
husbands  and  homes  and  children  to  look  after? 
Couldn't  you,  if  you  tried  very  hard,  find  a  little 
business  of  your  own  to  mind  ?  Daughters  of  St. 
Paula,  indeed !  Your  mother  must  be  proud  of 
you ! " 

"  She's  a  low,  vulgar  creature,  and  ought  to  be 
publicly  expelled  from  our  society ! "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Jones,  when  the  door  had  shut  on  her  redoubtable 
antagonist. 

No  one  responded.  The  group  had  moved  off 
from  her,  and  only  Mrs.  Macduff  said  "  Good-night," 
when  presently  the  Jones  carriage  was  announced, 
and  its  owner  departed. 

The  tide  had  turned. 

Maids  came  with  waterproofs  and  umbrellas ;  a 
carriage  or  two  more  were  called;  but  still  Mrs. 
Ormond  talked  in  low  and  earnest  tones  with  Miss 


236  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WOULD 

May,  at  the  desk;  and  still  Mrs.  Wise  and  Mrs. 
Willow  held  their  own  private  consultation  at  the 
window. 

At  last  Mrs.  Wise  approached  the  desk  : 

"  Mrs.  Ormond,  you  have  proved  yourself  Miss 
Ward's  friend,  and  we  meant  to  be  her  friends,  even 
if  we  were  misled  by  foolish  talk.  I'm  not  saying 
but  what  we  should  have  held  our  tongues ;  but 
now,  if  there's  anything  in  God's  world  we  can  do, 
give  us  the  chance  to  do  it.  Mrs.  Willow  feels 
awfully.  She  wants  to  know  if  it  isn't  possible  for 
her  to  see  Miss  Ward,  if  only  for  a  second." 

Miss  May  looked  coldly  at  her.  Mrs.  Ormond, 
however,  reflected. 

"  Miss  Ward  was  not  conscious  when  I  left  her 
two  hours  ago,"  she  said  gently.  "  But  I'll  see  what 
can  be  done.  Meantime  there  is  a  way  for  both  of 
you  to  help.  Is  Mrs.  Willow's  carriage  here  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  it  has  been  waiting  half  an  hour." 

"  Perhaps  she  will  take  us  all  over  to  Miss 
Ward's"  — 

"  We  can  leave  you  at  home  —  we  go  right  by  "  — 
to  Miss  May's  objection  that  Mr.  Holmwood  was 
awaiting  her  by  appointment. 

"  You  know,  perhaps,"  explained  Mrs.  Ormond  to 
the  others,  "that  Jack  Holmwood  has  just  been 
received  into  the  Church.  He  is  Miss  Ward's  con 
vert." 

Mrs.  Willow's   tears  fell   afresh  —  for   she   was 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  237 

a  loyal  Catholic  —  to  think  that  she  had  ever  had  a 
coldness  with  this  dear  friend,  who  was  dying  with 
the  Apostolic  Benediction  upon  her,  and  who  had 
brought  into  the  Church  this  hard-headed  Uni 
tarian. 

The  ladies  started.  There  were  lights  in  the 
studio,  and  Mrs.  Wise  perceived  through  the  half- 
drawn  curtains  a  lady  and  two  gentlemen  in  close 
conversation. 

Mrs.  Ormond  alighted  first. 

"  Look ! "  whispered  Mrs.  Wise  to  her  friend 
excitedly,  holding  her  back  an  instant  on  the 
threshold.  "As  I  live,  there's  Bertrand  Coleman 
himself,  and  Jane,  \  and" — 

"  Come  in  quickly,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond. 

Had  Mrs.  Ormond's  searchlight  accomplished  its 
purpose  ? 

"  It  may  be  as  well  not  to  tell  too  much,"  she 
said,  an  hour  later,  bidding  Mrs.  Willow  and  Mrs. 
Wise  goodnight ;  "  but  I  leave  it  all  to  your  friend 
ship  and  discretion." 

I  fear  Mrs.  Ormond  also  was  a  diplomat. 

The  following  day,  at  a  most  unfashionable  hour, 
Mrs.  Willow's  carriage  was  in  requisition,  and  she 
and  Mrs.  Wise,  with  full  card-cases,  began  the 
longest  and  most  interesting  series  of  calls  they 
had  ever  made  in  their  lives. 


238  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

SUNRISE   IN   THE   VALLEY   OF   THE   SHADOW. 

ABOUT  the  time  that  Mrs.  Willow  and  Mrs.  Wise 
were  holding  the  amazed  attention  of  a  very  large 
group  at  Mrs.  Ray's  Day,  Esther  Ward  opened  con 
scious  eyes  again. 

Father  Herman,  Mrs.  Ormond,  Mrs.  Mint  and  her 
brother  Joseph  were  standing  by  her  bed. 

Joseph  first  caught  the  gleam  of  recognition  in 
those  large,  bright  eyes,  and  bending,  kissed  his 
sister's  forehead.  He  could  not  trust  himself  to  a 
word. 

Esther  smiled  faintly  at  him,  and  then  looked 
earnestly  at  Father  Herman. 

The  priest  placed  a  Crucifix  in  her  hands. 

"  Has  it  come  to  this,  Father  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  has,  my  child,"  he  answered. 

"Thank  God  !"  said  Esther. 

Father  Herman  slipped  on  his  stole,  and 
motioned  to  the  others  to  withdraw. 

"  Esther,"  he  said,  half  an  hour  later,  "  offer  your 
will  to  God  for  life  or  death,  as  it  pleases  Him." 

"  Oh,  not  for  life  ! "  she  whispered  with  a  shudder. 
"Father,  ask  God  not  to  send  me  back  to  that." 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  239 

"Christ  shrank  from  the  Cross  in  Gethsemane," 
the  priest  murmured,  "  but  He  prayed  to  His  Father, 
'  Not  My  will,  but  Thine  be  done.'  Esther,  be  gen 
erous,  though  I  doubt  that  you  have  twenty-four 
hours  to  live." 

The  woman  bent  her  head  and  kissed  the  Crucifix. 

"  And  now,  my  child,  I  go  to  bring  the  Holy  Viati 
cum.  Attend,  meantime,  to  any  necessary  worldly 
affair." 

There  was  a  sound  of  smothered  weeping  at  the 
door,  and  as  the  priest  passed  out,  Gregory  Eay, 
with  tumbled  hair  and  swollen  eyes,  rushed  in  and 
throwing  his  arms  about  Esther's  neck,  pressed  his 
wet,  freckled  cheek  to  hers. 

She  stroked  her  favorite's  hair  with  her  wan  little 
hand. 

Father  Herman  turned  back. 

"  Come,  come,  Gregory.  If  you  cry  like  this  you 
cannot  come  back  with  me  to  make  the  responses 
when  I  bring  Miss  Esther  Holy  Communion." 

Joe,  who  had  just  telegraphed  for  his  wife,  came 
in  as  the  priest  and  the  boy  departed.  He  had  a 
letter  in  his  hand. 

"  Esther,"  he  said,  sitting  down  beside  her,  and 
taking  her  hand  in  his.  "  We  have  heard  from  Ned 
at  last.  He  writes  from  San  Francisco.  He  is  well 
and  in  good  employment,  and  sends  you  this  check 
for  five  hundred  dollars  —  half  of  what  you  spent 
to  save  him  last  March." 


240  THE  WAY  OF  THE  WORLD 

Esther  smiled  happily.  "  It  is  as  Bertrand  Cole- 
man  promised,"  she  said  softly.  "  Joe,  let  me  endorse 
the  check,  and  do  you  cash  it  without  delay.  It  will 
cover  what  must  be  done  when  I  am  gone.  My 
will  is  in  the  top  drawer  of  my  desk.  I  have  saved 
Mr.  Coleman's  money.  And  tell  Ned  that  I  forgive 
the  rest  of  his  debt,  and  send  him  my  loving  good- 
by." 

Ellen  came  to  arrange  the  bed  and  give  her  patient 
a  strengthening  drink.  Esther  slipped  Ned's  letter 
under  her  pillow. 

Mrs.  Ormond  stood  in  the  place  which  Joe  had 
left. 

"  Esther,  by-and-by  you  may  know  the  enemy  and 
the  friend  for  whom  I  ask  forgiveness,  and  the  wrong 
done  to  you,  for  which  we  both  ask  it "  — 

"  As  I  have  been  forgiven,"  she  answered. 

Her  strength  was  failing,  but  she  reached  up  both 
hands  and  drew  Mrs.  Ormond  nearer :  "  And  if  you 
ever  see  Arthur  Esmond  again,  tell  him  that  I 
passed  away  loving  him,  trusting  him,  praying  for 
him." 

Mrs.  Ormond  hid  her  face  for  a  moment  on  the 
dying  woman's  pillow  ;  then  gently  disengaging  her 
self,  stole  out,  and  Esther  turned  away  from  earthly 
things  'to  rest  her  broken  heart  on  the  promises  of 
Him  Who  was  drawing  near  to  be  her  strength  in 
the  supreme  hour. 

How  strange  it  was  !  how  different  from  all  she 


AND   OTHER  WAYS.  241 

had  ever  forecast  for  dying,  this  solemn  yet  peaceful 
sadness !  She  felt  a  sinking  of  the  heart,  and  con 
nected  thought  was  becoming  an  effort.  No  words 
of  prayer  came  to  her,  but  some  lines  of  a  hymn  of 
Father  Faber's,  which  they  used  to  sing  long  ago  on 
Communion  days  in  the  convent,  when  she  was  a 
child : 

"  Had  I  but  Mary's  sinless  heart 
To  love  Thee  with,  my  dearest  King." 

Yet  now  this  seemed  the  prayer  of  prayers,  and 
she  said  it  over  and  over,  with  all  her  heart. 

Was  it  a  moment  or  an  hour  till  Mrs.  Ormond 
came  in  again,  noiselessly,  to  light  the  candles  on 
the  little  altar  prepared  for  the  Last  Sacraments  ? 
Taking  another  lighted  candle,  she  went  forth  to 
meet  at  the  doorway  of  the  studio  the  bearer  of  the 
Divine  Guest,  and  Esther  descried,  as  in  a  glass, 
darkly,  familiar  figures  from  the  life  she  had  done 
with,  among  the  kneeling  women. 

Her  brother  and  poor  little  Gregory  attended  the 
priest. 

It  was  all  over  soon  —  the  wayfarer  was  strength 
ened  for  her  long  journey  with  the  Bread  prefigured 
of  old  to  the  fiery  prophet  by  that  food  in  whose 
strength  he  fared  on  his  weary  way  unto  the  mount 
of  God.  With  the  sacred  Unction  anointed,  with 
the  blessing  of  Christ's  Vicar  signed,  they  left  her 
again  to  prayer  and  silence. 

"  0  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  Son  of  the  living  God,  I 


242  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

am  become   in  Thy  Presence  as  one  finding  peace" 

Esther  had  feared  she  would  not  die,  because 
death  was  touching  her  so  gently.  Only  faces  of 
peace  looked  at  her  out  of  the  dimness.  Only  lov 
ing  voices  hailed  her  in  the  Borderland  whereon  her 
spirit  traveled. 

Then  this  befell,  in  that  strange  land  —  no  dream, 
she  knew,  but  veriest  sight. 

She  walked  across  a  sweet  mown  meadow,  in  the 
summer  twilight,  and  she  was  not  alone.  But 
whosoever  bore  her  company,  she  saw  not,  for  her 
eyes  were  held. 

The  sun  had  gone  down,  leaving  in  the  west  a 
dull  red  afterglow,  and  above  it  rested  a  vast  bar  of 
deep  violet. 

High  in  the  east  the  moon  shone,  companioned 
by  a  single  star,  and  both  were  veiled  with  a  little 
filmy  cloud. 

But,  lo  !  as  she  looked  upward  the  cloud  blushed 
on  the  edges  a  rosy  red,  and  Esther  knew  that  the 
moon  never  gave  forth  this  warm  radiance. 

And  behold  !  the  summer  meadow  and  the  moon 
vanished,  and  she  was  standing  on  the  shore  of  a 
mighty  sea,  and  the  tide  was  coming  in,  and  the  sun 
was  rising  in  glory.  Kose-red  was  the  sky  to  the 
zenith,  rose-red  were  the  waves  to  their  depths,  rose- 
red  was  the  very  earth,  with  a  pulsing,  palpitating 
radiance. 
"  Like  the  Blood  of  the  Redeemer  shown  on  earth  and  sky." 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  243 

And  a  withered  bush  which  grew  close  to  the 
water's  edge,  sprang  suddenly  into  life  and  flower, 
and  glowed  verily  like  another  Burning  Bush  in  the 
sunrise.  .  .  . 

Then  Esther  knew  that  she  would  surely  die  ; 
and  that  the  unseen  presence  which  walked  beside 
her  was  none  other  than  her  Guardian  Angel, 
miraging  for  her  comfort  ere  they  two  went  down 
together  into  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow,  a  glimpse 
of  the  glory  of  the  City  of  God. 

Life  ebbed  away  slowly,  slowly,  and  the  past 
began  to  live  again  before  those  failing  eyes. 

She  was  a  little  child  again,  and  her  mother  with 
deft  fingers  tied  back  her  bushy  brown  hair  with  a 
pretty  pink  ribbon,  and  bowed  her  broad  sash,  and 
sent  her  to  play  with  her  brother  under  the  big 
plum-tree  in  the  back  garden  of  the  old  home  far 
away.  Then  it  was  a  rainy  day,  and  she  sat  by  the 
attic  windows  drawing  crude  pencil  pictures  of  her 
little  memories  or  fancies  on  the  fly-leaves  of  dis 
carded  school-books. 

Anon  she  was  an  ambitious  schoolgirl,  praying 
at  Benediction  in  the  convent  chapel  for  success  in 
some  premium  contest,  while  the  tapers  burned 
softly,  and  the  incense  rose  in  fragrant  clouds,  and 
her  artist  soul  felt  the  homesick  note  when  the 
choir  sang : 

Nobis  donet  in  patria. 


244  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

"  0  God,  be  merciful  to  me ;  for  I  am  dying ! " 
prayed  Esther,  as  she  drifted  back  again  to  the 
familiar  room,  with  the  lamp  burning  before  Christ 
of  the  Pierced  Heart  on  the  altar  at  the  foot  of  her 
bed. 

But  still  she  lived ;  for  it  was  as  if  the  receding 
tide  were  held  at  the  fifth  hour,  and  bidden  neither 
to  ebb  nor  flow. 

And  again  her  spirit  wandered  down  the  path 
ways  of  the  past,  and  she  was  a  girl  with  the 
glamour  of  romance  upon  her,  and  she  walked  in  the 
moonlight  under  the  trees  of  a  broad  village  street 
with  other  maidens  and  youths,  and  they  sang  songs 
of  love  and  tender  longing. 

Nor  seemed  it  strange  at  all  that  these  youths  and 
maidens  had  the  faces  of  the  men  and  women  among 
whom  her  later  life  was  cast,  and  who  had  made 
the  tragedy  of  it ;  that  Arthur  Esmond  besought  her 
love  with  the  voice  of  one  who  was  in  his  grave  for 
many  a  summer ;  nor  that  Bertrand  Coleman  and  his 
sister  were  of  the  companions  of  her  girlhood. 

Then  saw  she  the  blighted  home  again,  and 
watched  by  untimely  dying-beds.  .  .  .  Anon,  pale 
flowers  sprang  once  more  in  the  desolated  field  of 
life,  for  life  was  young ;  and  the  soul  of  art  began 
to  yearn  for  expression,  and  would  not  be  denied. 
And  this  was  in  Italy. 

"  Oh,  God  be  merciful  to  me,  for  I  am  surely  dying," 
she  prayed  again,  for  some  movement  of  the  nurse 


AND  OTHER  WAYS.  245 

who  kept  vigil  beside  her  brought  Esther  back  to  her 
little  white  bed,  and  the  sense  of  parched  lips  and 
helplessness. 

The  watcher  saw  no  change  as  she  ministered  to 
the  wants  of  her  patient.  She  was  still  semi-con 
scious,  one  little  thin  hand  aimlessly  fingering  the 
counterpane,  while  the  other  clasped  the  Crucifix. 

But  a  great  change  was  wrought  before  Esther's 
eyes,  for  now  the  dearest  dead  of  all  her  years  were 
with  her.  Her  mother's  large,  dark  eyes  looked 
wistfully  at  her,  and  her  father,  standing  a  little 
further  off,  whispered:  "We  are  waiting  for  you." 

She  saw  the  little  sisters,  who  had  passed  away 
before  she  knew  their  faces  ;  and  the  forgotten  long- 
dead  playmates  of  her  childhood. 

And  stranger  still,  she  saw  Arthur  Esmond. 
Could  it  be  that  he  also  had  died,  and  now,  knowing 
all  truly,  as  the  dead  who  die  in  Christ  know  it,  had 
come  back  with  the  rest  to  comfort  her  in  the  Valley 
of  the  Shadow  ? 

Somebody  spoke,  and  the  words  came  clearly  to 
her : 

"  Yes,  let  him  stay  ;  it  will  neither  hurt  nor  help. 
She  is  too  far  gone  for  that.  Nothing  matters  any 
more." 

She  smiled  to  herself  at  these  last  words,  remem 
bering  how  often  she  had  spoken  them  from  a  heart 
full  of  anguish. 

How  far  she  had  drifted  from  those  days  of  storm 


246  THE   WAY   OF  THE   WORLD 

and  stress,  and  how  sweet  was  this  waiting  in  hum 
ble  peace  and  hope,  with  Arthur  Esmond's  eyes  upon 
her,  as  her  mother's  just  had  been,  and  more  than 
the  old  love  in  them  ! 

But  would  a  spirit  weep  those  burning  tears  over 
her  face,  and  enfold  her  as  with  a  strong  man's  arms  ? 
What  strange  things  happened  on  the  very  edge  of 
death ! 

She  lay  passive,  gazing  wistfully,  wonderingly ; 
and  as  she  gazed,  the  well-remembered  objects  in  her 
room  wavered  back,  and  steadied  themselves  before 
her  eyes ;  and  she  knew  the  glimmer  of  the  street 
lamp  through  the  closed  shutters  of  her  windows. 

Her  gaze  concentrated  on  the  face  so  near  her 
own.  She  lifted  her  hand,  and  hesitating,  like  a 
little  timid  child,  touched  the  cheek.  Her  dream 
was  broken. 

"  Oh,  Arthur !  and  you  are  not  dead  ?  " 

Her  voice  was  so  faint  that  he  had  to  lean  closer 
to  her  to  hear  it ;  but  her  soul  was  in  the  eyes  she 
fixed  on  him. 

"  Esther,  Esther,  forgive  me  and  stay  with  me  ! " 
he  pleaded  brokenly.  "  I  came  to  myself  at  last,  out 
of  my  jealous  madness,  and  gave  up  my  commission, 
and  traveled  back  from  San  Francisco  to  tell  you 
that  I  would  take  your  word  against  the  world,  and 
I  found  you  unconscious,  and  at  the  point  of  death. 
.  .  .  But  you  shall  not  die  —  Heaven  has  been 
stormed  for  your  life." 


AND  OTHER   WAYS.  247 

With  her  last  remnant  of  strength  she  tried  to 
draw  out  of  the  arms  which  would  hold  her  back 
from  welcome  death. 

"  Oh,  Arthur,  let  me  go.  My  fear  of  death  is  past. 
...  I  have  no  other  wish  for  earth  now  I  have 
seen  you  .  .  .  and  heard  your  voice  ...  in  love 
.  .  .  And  you  know  .  .  .  everything." 

"  Yes,  from  your  friends,  Mrs.  Ormond  and  Mr. 
Coleman  ;  but  before  they  had  spoken,  I  knew  that 
you  were  the  truest  and  bravest  of  women,  and  that 
I,  in  my  wicked  suspicion,  was  viler  than  the  mud 
upon  the  road." 

She  ceased  for  the  moment  her  effort  to  be  free 
of  his  encircling  arms.  "  You  shall  not  defame  the 
man  I  love,"  she  whispered. 

He  knew  her  gracious  ways  of  old. 

"  My  generous  Esther  ! "  he  murmured.  "  You 
will  not  leave  me,  now  that  God  has  let  us  meet  at 
all,  after  all  these  years  and  all  your  sorrow  ? " 

"  Oh,  Arthur,  if  you  love  me,  let  me  go,"  she 
murmured,  drawing  back  as  far  as  she  could  from 
those  beseeching  eyes  and  lips. 

"  I  have  come  to  see  God's  hand  in  our  separation 
...  in  all  the  pain  and  shame.  ...  It  has  been  all 
for  the  best  ...  for  you  ...  for  me  ...  I  could 
not  have  filled  the  place  you  planned  for  me  ...  it 
is  clear  to  me  now  .  .  .  Go,  my  dearest ;  you  can 
help  me  better  in  my  last  hour  ...  if  you  stay 
where  I  cannot  see  your  face." 


248  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WOKLD 

There  was  a  long  silence  between  them.  He 
relaxed  his  embrace  ;  but  he  still  knelt  beside  her, 
one  arm  above  her  head  upon  the  pillow,  where  his 
hand  touched  her  thick  brown  braids.  Even  in  the 
dim  light,  from  the  little  lamp  at  the  shrine,  he 
could  see  how  small  and  shadowy  were  Esther's 
form  and  face,  but  her  forehead  was  dry,  and  she 
breathed  without  effort. 

"  Esther,"  he  said  again,  "  if  God  willed  you  to 
come  back  to  life" — 

Her  eyes  clouded.  "  Oh,  no,  my  dearest.  God 
does  not  will  it.  I  am  surely  going  to  die." 

"And  you  are  glad  to  go?" 

"  So  glad ! "  she  murmured. 

"  Even  from  me,  my  dearest  ? " 

"  For  your  sake.  I  can  be  more  to  you  when, 
through  God's  mercy,  I  get  to  Heaven." 

"  Esther,  before  you  leave  me  you  will  give  me 
the  one  perfect,  satisfying  proof  of  your  forgive 
ness  ? " 

"  Surely  I  will,"  she  answered,  lifting  his  hand 
with  a  supreme  effort  and  pressing  it  to  her  cheek 
and  lips. 

"Every  one  knows  now,"  he  went  on,  "what 
parted  us.  Every  one  knows  now  how  cruelly  I 
misjudged  you.  Through  my  fault  you  are  on  your 
dying  bed  "  — 

"  Oh,  no,  no,"  she  murmured. 

"  But  I  will  live  the  rest  of  my  lonely  life  know- 


AND   OTHER   WAYS.  249 

ing  that  I  have  killed  you,  and  everyone  will  know 
it.  Are  you  resigned  to  leave  me  to  such  a  fate  ?  " 

The  peacefulness  went  out  of  Esther's  eyes. 
There  was  a  long  silence,  and  she  prayed  in  her 
heart. 

"  Arthur,  God  knows  that  I  would  gladly  bear  all 
your  sorrow  for  you.  .  .  .  But,  oh,  my  dearest  .  .  . 
can't  you  see  that  I  am  .  .  .  where  there  is  no  turn 
ing  back  ? " 

"  At  least  let  my  reparation  be  as  clear  and  as 
long  to  be  remembered,"  he  pleaded,  "  as  the  wrong 
I  did  you.  You  will  not  refuse  my  last  request !  " 

"  You  could  not  ask  me  what  I  should  refuse,"  she 
answered,  "  and  you  have  my  promise." 

"  Then,  Esther,  be  my  wife,  though  you  live  but 
an  hour  to  bear  my  name,  and  take  my  ring  into 
the  grave  with  you." 

"  I  would  not  cast  my  shadow  on  your  life,"  she 
sighed. 

"  The  memory  of  you  as  my  own  will  light  my 
way  to  Heaven,"  he  murmured ;  and  then :  "  I  have 
your  word." 

He  left  her  for  a  moment,  and  presently  returned 
with  Father  Herman.  Her  brother,  Jane  Coleman 
and  Mrs.  Ormond  followed,  and  they  left  the  door 
wide  open. 

Esther's  eyes  sought  Father  Herman's. 

"  You  will  not  grudge  him  this  comfort,  my  child," 
said  the  priest. 


250  THE   WAY  OF  THE   WORLD 

The  brief  marriage  service  was  over,  and  Mrs. 
Willow  had  seen  and  heard  it  all,  smiling  cheerfully 
through  her  tears,  for  a  wedding  is  a  wedding,  even 
if  the  shadow  of  death  is  on  it. 

The  ring  turned  loosely  on  the  bride's  small  finger. 
Arthur  Esmond  took  another  ring  out  of  the  little 
case  in  his  hand.  It  was  the  pearl  ring  of  her  be 
trothal. 

"  Perhaps  this  will  hold  it  —  it  seems  a  little 
smaller,"  he  said  diffidently. 

But  Esther  shrank  from  it.  "  Give  it  to  Father 
Herman  for  his  chalice,"  she  said  softly. 

The  priest  hastened  away,  for  it  was  nearly  mid 
night  now,  promising  to  come  in  after  his  Mass  next 
morning. 

He  met  Doctor  Allen  at  the  entrance,  and  told 
him  briefly  what  had  happened  ;  but  the  doctor  only 
repeated  his  words  of  two  hours  previous  :  "  Nothing 
matters  now.  She  is  too  far  gone  for  that." 

He  drew  near  his  patient's  bedside.  She  was 
very  tired  and  spoke  with  effort.  He  looked  closely 
at  her,  and  then  a  significant  look  passed  between 
him  and  the  nurse. 

"I  believe  I'll  stay,"  he  said,  turning  quickly  to 
Joe.  "  Can't  you  fix  me  up  a  place  where  I  can 
sleep  for  a  few  hours  ?  Call  me,"  to  Ellen,  "  if 
there  is  a  change ;  and  meantime,  keep  her  quiet. 
Out  with  you,  every  one,"  to  the  group  about  the 
bed;  "and  don't  look  at  her  again  till  I  give  you 
leave." 


AND   OTHER    WAYS.  251 

At  six  o'clock  Doctor  Allen  woke  of  himself,  and 
went  back  to  his  patient. 

Meantime  Arthur  Esmond,  Joe  and  his  wife,  Mrs. 
Ormond  and  Jane  Coleman,  who  had  watched  and 
prayed  through  the  night,  met  again  in  the  studio. 
Mrs.  Willow  and  Mrs.  Wise  had  heard  Father  Her 
man's  Mass  on  their  way  back,  and  presently  joined 
them. 

Father  Herman  soon  followed,  and  went  into 
Esther's  room,  carefully  closing  the  door.  The 
watchers  held  their  breath.  It  seemed  hours  until 
it  was  softly  opened  again,  and  the  priest  beckoned 
in  the  husband  and  the  brother. 

Another  interval  of  suspense ;  and  just  as  the  sun 
rise  revealed  itself  through  the  closed  shutters  in 
long  shafts  of  crimson  light,  Father  Herman  came 
out,  shutting  the  door  noiselessly. 

His  face  was  paler  than  its  wont,  and  hard  to 
read. 

"  Oh,  no !  Father  —  don't  say  it,  don't ! "  cried  Mrs. 
Willow. 

The  priest  lifted  his  hand. 

"  Wait,  my  child,"  to  Mrs.  Willow ;  then  to  us  all : 

"Let  us  thank  God,  Esther  will  live." 

THE    END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Form  L9-Series  4939 


UC  SOUTHERN  REG    NALL   RAJWFACL 


A    001375931    1 


